Victoria Dīligō
by baby-new-year
Summary: Clove never believed the old saying that love conquers all. Will an unlikely romance in the 74th Annual Hunger Games change that? AU (If my translation is correct, the title means 'Victorious Love' in Latin. Please tell me if I'm wrong)
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER- I am not Suzanne Collins or a bananna (if you don't get that joke, go over to YouTube and search 'I'm a bananna.' Hilarious!) And thanks a bazillion to Lillian for agreeing to beta this.

Chapter One- 'The Reaping'

When I wake up this morning, the first that I'm aware of is a pillow being whacked in my face. It really isn't a good idea to irritate me this early in the morning.

"What exactly are you doing?" I ask with a yawn. I turn to my twelve-year-old sister, Marcia, who just giggles.

"I can't believe you forgot!" she says defiantly. "Clove, this is your sixth reaping. I thought you would've remembered the date by now."

"Oh yeah." I really should have remembered. I've been looking forward to this for weeks. "I'm going to do it this time. You know, go in," I say to my sister.

"And come home too. Right?" Marcia asks, a glimmer of fear crossing her eyes.

"Well, that's the plan, isn't it?" I say, causing her to laugh and roll her eyes at me.

"Just get ready," she demands, unable to come up with a retort. She then holds up a dress. "Mom wants you to wear this."

I sigh, registering the color: soft pink. "Okay," I finally say, exasperated.

I get ready in a ten-minute whirlwind before running downstairs. When I get down there, I notice that Julian and Rufus, our fifteen-year-old supposedly-twins-but-are-nothing-alike-and-seem-to hate-each-other brothers are acting, as usual, like immature idiots. Right now, they're using the heels on our mom's three-inch shoes to stab each other. The fight ends when our family's crazy dog, Jaws, sinks his tiny teeth into both of them, drawing blood both times.

"Will you just calm down?" I shout at them. They don't, I glare, they stop. It's a familiar cycle.

Well, we somehow make it to the town square within the next ten minutes. Then again, it isn't a huge accomplishment when you live only about two minutes away. Almost as soon as we sign in, the mayor begins reading his yearly speech. Honestly, it's so dull that when I can't fall asleep at night, I recite it in my mind. Finally, it ends and the District 2 escort, Tessa Nova, mounts the stage.

"It's great to be here in, ah, where are we?" she says, "Oh, yes, District Three. Er, excuse me, Two? Well, wherever we are, the excitement is rising!" she squeals. Honestly, she is so stupid that she makes Julian and Rufus seem almost intelligent. If it's possible, that is.

"Shall we begin?" Tessa continues. Without waiting for an answer, she swirls her hand around in the glass ball labled 'District Two: Female.' After several minutes of grabbing one paper, dropping it, and grabbing another, she finally settles on one. "Congratulations to-" she opens it, and I'm crossing my fingers so tightly they bruise. "Clove Sanders!"

"Yes!" I shout, jumping in the air. I run up onto the stage shouting, "Volunteer and become my target practice!"

"Now that's the spirit!" Tessa says, patting my shoulder. I wince slightly as her purple talons pierce my skin. "Let's choose our next tribute." She walks over to the next glass ball, doing her ridiculous routine to make us wait. After a minute, she reads again. "Well, well, well. This certainly is interesting. I assume this is your brother?" she asks me. "Anyway, Rufus Sanders, come on up!"

"No." A semi-familiar voice commands. "I volunteer." Then he mounts the stage.

Tessa is ecstatic. "Fabulous! And your name would be-?" she asks, unable to stop smiling. Between my enthusiasim and a volunteering that actually went succesfully, this reaping will be unforgettable in the Capitol.

"Cato Marshall," he answers tersly. Of course, it's just my luck that he would be chosen. You see, the two of us are skilled with anything involving throwing pointy objects. We have been in rivalry for the last seven years. The high scores in the training centers going back and forth between the two of us the entire time.  
Taking the cheering crowd to my advantage, I begin my first stage of the plan I have to get home: messing with Cato's mind. So, I half-whisper, half-hiss the blunt truth; "One of us is coming back to Two. It will be me."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

After the hour we're given to say goodbye to our families, we go to choose who our mentors are going to be. District Two always has the best tributes, so it only makes sense that we would have the most victors. Tributes are allowed to choose who our mentors are going to be. Cato must think that the victor with the most recent time in the arena would be best. His mentor, Felix, won three years ago at the age of fifteen, so he and Cato are the same age now. Great, spending time with a bunch of irritating, immature teenage boys.

The mentor I choose is the one with the record for the most tributes brought home. Marilla won about thirty years ago, at the age of fourteen, so she's around my mom's age now.

We hop onto the train, ignoring the now-swarming reporters. As soon as the doors close, Marilla turns to Cato and I. "Okay, strategy. Let me hear what you've got planned."

I see this as the perfect opportunity to continue to mess with Cato's mind. "To win. Of course, I can only speak for myself. I know that not everyone has the dedication or focus."

Cato flushes and narrows his eyes at me. Immitating what Marcia does whenever Julian or Rufus get mad at her, I place a hand on one hip and roll my eyes before acting bored. This seems to irritate him even further. Perfect.

"Just stop being immature," he demands, turning to walk down the hall. Almost instinctively, I grab his wrist and turn him around. I can feel warm drops of his blood from where my fingernails pierce his skin. I get up on tiptoes so I'm right in his face.

"And you just wait until we're in the arena! That isn't to say, though, that I am patient enough to wait until then." I remove my hand and laugh at the sight of his still-wet blood under my nails. Honestly though, I'm faking. It really is gross. But I need to get used to this before the arena.

Marilla sighs as though her tributes often act like this. She pulls a tissue out of her pocket and turns Cato's wrist over, blotting it with a gentleness that I wouldn't associate with a past victor. Then she turns to me. "Well then, you are going to have to try to find the patience."

I roll my eyes again and shrug. "Wait or don't wait; what's the difference? Either way, there will be one victor. That will be me."

Felix laughs. "Too bad your mentor isn't Enobaria. You two would really have gotten along."

I am saved from having to talk by Tessa flinging the door open. "So, I was just chatting with the reporters. Your excitement really, well, excited them! Oh, and Clove, they heard you yelling, and a few are interested in sponsoring you!" She grabs my hands and jumps up and down, squealing. Then she gives a little scream. "Eew! What it that? Why are your fingers covered in... is that blood? Dear, did you break a cuticle? Because if you did, I have some nail glue that works great for that."

"I didn't break a cuticle. Well, if I did, it wasn't mine."

Tessa blinks twice rapidly, looking very confused. "Whatever do you mean?"

Marilla explains everything, causing Tessa to repeat Marilla's advice. "Just- wait for the arena. Okay?"

I walk down the long hall, trying to find a sink where I can wash Cato's blood off my fingers. Okay, this is really, really gross. But at least I am even more ready for the Games.


	3. Chapter 3

A/n- There are movie spoilers inside double exclamation marks.

Chapter 3

We pull into the train station at the Capitol two hours later. Only four hundred miles from the Capitol, District 2 is the closest district.

"Okay now," Tessa starts consulting a list on her clipboard. "We're the first ones here. That's good. There is bad news, though." With this, she starts waving the clipboard around. "We were suppossed to be here one minute and fourty-three-point-seven seconds ago!" Alarmed by the volume at which she's yelling, Cato and I jump back. Fortunately, she catches herself. "Now, now, no stress," she murmmers to herself. "You know how aging that is." Okay, now she is starting to scare me a bit. "Anyway, the Tributes from One will be here in about half an hour, and after them, Seven, then Three. Nine, Five, Ten, and Eight, later tonight, and Twelve, Six, Eleven, and Four, early tomorrow. Now, we're going to go into the train station, and there should be someone waiting inside who will then drive us all to the Training Center. You are going to love it there!"

Surely enough, there is someone waiting right inside the train station. The total drive takes about three minutes. To me, it is three minutes too long.

We get inside and Marilla directs us to the elevator. Before she gets us on, Felix stops her. "Wait," he says. "A few years ago, they changed the policy. They need fingerprints and DNA samples of Tributes. So, how about I take Clove and Cato down for that, and we'll meet you back on our floor in a little while?"

"Our floor?" Wow, did Cato and I just talk in unison? That's not a good sign.

"Floor Two," Tessa beams. "It's wonderful!"

"We'll see you there in a few minutes," Marilla says as I step out of the elevator along with Cato and Felix. "And Clove, behave this time."

Felix leads us down the hallway that cuts through the lobby. We end up in a long corridor lined with near-identical brown doors. One of them has a sign that reads "Tribute Registration". He opens the door with a reassuring smile and directs us in.

As soon as we're inside the office, we're met by someone that I assume to be a Gamemaker. But when she starts speaking, I notice how youthful she sounds. She can't be much older than Cato, Felix, and I are. Probably twenty or so, but all of the make-up she is wearing makes her seem a lot older.

"So, my name is Aeliana. I'm here as a part of a teen summer internship-" (okay, so she's probably younger than us then) -"So, sorry if I seem too nervous." She gives an airy laugh. "Anyway, about five years ago, we had some kids from District Four sneak on the train and pretend to be Tributes. Since then, we have started an identification process that get's checked against existing school records. First, we do some fingerprinting. Fingerprinting honestly isn't the most fun thing ever, as it takes a little while. Not to say that the second part, !a DNA test done by a tiny blood sample!, is fun. But anyway," she guides us into a cubicle. "Let's get started."

Aeliana has Cato and I sit down at a desk on the other side of the cubicle and goes off to find someone else. This person I'm sure is decades older than they look. Which is the opposite of Aeliana. He seems as if he is in his early sixties, yet is trying to appear much younger. All that time he must have spent at a plastic surgeon has been a waste of time. The two of them talk for a moment, and it seems as if Aeliana is getting instructions about what to do. She leaves for a moment and comes back with an ink pad and some documents with the Capitol seal on them. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the documents have ten boxes that are each labeled by which fingerprint goes where.

"So, you really want me to do these? You think I'm ready?" she squeals, happy tears glistening in the corners of her unnaturally purple eyes. She then turns to Cato. "Okay, then. These are arranged alphabeticly by last name, so do you want to go first?"

He nods without emotion, apparently trying to seem more mature than I am, with my huge smile and constant bouncing. Anyway, by the time Aeliana is on his second finger, I'm wishing he had said no. I understand that this is her first time, but she is taking forever! She is double and even sometimes triple checking that she has everything done perfectly. At one point with the first, a tiny smudge of ink had gotten outside of the box, and she gave a tiny scream, ran out, and came back with some white-out. Then she spent literally five minutes rubbing the page.

After another twenty minutes, she does mine. Since it's her second time, she is a bit faster and more efficient. In other words, I'm done in fifteen. The second step is a lot faster. If she wants to be a Gamemaker in a few years, she needs to become a little less squeamish. She literally pricks Cato's finger, turns green, and runs out. Her instructor sighs, finishes our identification and goes off to find her. Assuming we're done, Cato and I walk out, find Felix, and leave the office.

"How did that go?" Felix asks us as we step onto the elevator. "It took a while."

Cato explains what took so long as I squirm a lot, making up for movement time lost in the fifteen minutes when Aeliana kept reminding me to stay still. And those doctors in Two said I would grow out of my hyperactivity by the time I turned ten!

"And it was so boring!" we both groan at the same time. Seriously, the second time in an hour we have spoken in unison? Not good. I really hope that we aren't as similar as it might seem. Because when two people really are alike, they tend to bond. Bonding with a fellow Tribute never ends well.


	4. Chapter 4

The elevator stops, for some reason, on floor one. The doors slide open and in step who I assume are the district's tributes. They are laughing and chattering at first, but start glaring almost the instant the doors close, seperating them from their mentors.

The girl, who is named Glimmer if my memory serves me correctly, takes one long step over to me. She manges to turn her back to Cato, yet is still batting her goopy, overly-mascaraed eyelashes at him the entire time. Then she looks at me, smirking. "I see you have a babysitter, Two," she says carelessly, pointing at Felix. "Well, it isn't anything to be ashamed of. You are only what?" She turns her head down an exaggerated amout. "Twelve?" She then tosses back her wavy golden hair and laughs, catching Cato's eye again.

I can feel the blood rush to my face. I have always been on the smaller side. In fact, almost everyone in the training center back home is at least three inches taller than I am. Glimmer seems to be about five more, and her district partner (I want to say his name is Marvel) and Cato both are taller by over a foot. Maybe I should be worried; but there are almost no circumstances where I can let that show.

"Well, if I were, at least I'd act older than I really would be. As oppossed to being eighteen and acting seven."

"Denial. So, I was right."

I flush again, but try to look threatening by clenching my fists and jaw and glaring her right in the eyes. Glimmer is such an idiot that she seems to be taking this as confused staring.

"Oh, it's called eyeliner. I wouldn't expect a small child like yourself to understand. My mom didn't let me wear it until I was thirteen. So again, don't feel bad."

There is a sharp series of pops behind us. Ugh, Cato's habit of cracking his knuckles his getting so annoying!* At least this time, he isn't doing it absentmindedly like usual. He seems to be trying to intimidate Glimmer.

"How nice," he says with an edge of sarcasam. "She saved you from looking like a clown for a little while, at least."

The two of us get to share a smirk now. Glimmer is now looking at her district partner for support. Marvel shakes his head and continues his discussion. So that's why Felix didn't intervine! He and Marvel do seem rather chatty. From the few words I caught, they seem to be speculating about the arena.

"Anyway," Glimmer beams. "Marvel and I are thinking about sneaking down to the training area later tonight. If it isn't past your eight-o'-clock curfew, we'd love to see you there."

"Yeah. And I'd love to show you all I've learned at my district's most prestegious training center."

Cato nods in agreement. "You wouldn't even have to use the targets. We have a dummy right here," he says to me.

The elevator, which must have frozen, finally stops in the lobby. I guess it is too much to hope for that Aeliana will throw up on Glimmer. "Buh-bye now," I say in an exaggeratedly sweet voice. Wow, another glare! Huge suprise there.

They leave, and I turn on Felix. "Thank you so much for your help!"

"I did help," he insists. "Okay, first piece of advice: try to split up allies. This argument was only a petty verbal one. Who knows what would have happened if they were together? Second, do not go to the training center. And third, when we get back, do not mention to Tessa that you insulted make-up of any type. Last time I saw her, I told her that her cherry lipgloss smelled like strawberries." He shudders. "I still have the scars."

The elevator beeps again once we reach the second floor. "Fine, we won't go." Luckily, he doesn't know that I'm smiling from lying, not out of obedience.

*I AM IN NO WAY TRYING TO INSULT ANYONE WITH THIS HABIT. I pop my knuckles, in fact. All I wanted to do was give Clove something else to be annoyed about.


	5. Chapter 5

The alarm clock on the other side of the room starts to beep. I hope that if anyone hears, they will just assume that I missed it. Just in case, I jump up and turn it off. Midnight; who said it isn't a good time for a late-night training session?

Luckily, I had fallen asleep fully dressed; therefore, reducing the time it would take to get there. Sneaking out into the hallway, I take extra care to be as quiet as possible. Suddenly, I crash into something large, warm, and slightly hairy.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss at him, pushing his arm out of the way. Apparently I had bumped into it when we both reached for the doorknob. So, it seems as if we both planned for this.

Wanting very much to burst out at him, I push the door open and storm through. Cato follows me, unfortunately.

We just make it through the front door when a shrill scream pierces the air. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my eyes widen.

"What was that," I ask. But Cato is already back inside. Why not follow?

Once in the hallway, Cato grabs my hand and pulls me to the side and into the open closet. "They're in there," he explains when I glare at him.

We press our eyes to the division in the door frame. Marilla and Felix are sitting together on the edge of the bright green couch. She sniffles and begins to talk.

"It's awful!" she gasps. Pointing at the door leading off to our rooms, she gets suddenly angry. "They don't know what they're doing! Being so excited, I mean. And the re-caps of the Reapings? Out of twenty-four, five volunteered! Four for fun and possible frivolous gain." She gulps down more tears, as Felix squeezes her hands. "In these so-called 'Games,' the 'winners' are the ones who have lost."

Felix bites his lip, nodding. Marilla continues to talk through her tears.

"I see how, everyday, you put up this facade. You pretend to be all... happy. I know you aren't. Not really."

Felix forces a tiny, quivering smile. "Let's just pretend we are. For them."

They eventually leave and go back to their rooms. Cato and I step out into the hallway and rush to the elevator. An unspoken agreement that it isn't safe to talk until its double doors slide shut keeps us from talking.

I force my voice to remain steady. "Do- you really think that-?"

For the first time, I see something other than confidence reflected in those amazing dark blue eyes of his. Is it possible that it is a glint of fear?

Feeling really uncomfortable, I change the topic abruptly. "Ready to show those Ones what we can do?"

Grim determination fills Cato's face as we step off outside the Center. "Yeah," he says, squaring his shoulders. "Let's do this."


	6. Chapter 6

The lights in the Training Center are on. So we go right in to start. Okay, so maybe I was half-hoping Glimmer wouldn't come. When she came strutting out from behind the climbing wall that she seemed to be inspecting, I clenched my fist and prepared for the fight that was bound to happen.

"Well!" she scoffed. "Will you look who decided to finally show up?"

"Whatever," I toss back. "I apologize that you were here earlier, due to the fact that we were avoiding bumping into our mentors on our way out. Although if we did, it would have been the perfect opportunity to tell on you two as well."

Glimmer tossed back her hair and grabbed a silver bow. Notching an arrow, she spent a moment to select a target. Still burning red, she released, missing by about three feet. The arrow hit the wall and stuck in the soft padding.

Cato walks carelessly over to it. "Well, that was great," he says patronizingly. Prying it out of the wall, he tosses it over his shoulder towards the other side of the room, where it hits right in the center of another mounted target.

Flushing even more, Glimmer stomps her foot. "You two just think you are so good at everything! Well, you aren't the only ones who trained for this for pretty much your whole life!"

"That would be true," I admit. "However, you will notice that we are the only ones who seemed to learn anything." With that, I too, show off my aim.

Marvel is now starting to stare. Well, if he's been trained with Glimmer, this is probably the first time he's ever seen anyone able to aim well. Then an expression of determination washes over him. This is bad for everyone. Apparently when Marvel gets too focused, everything else becomes ignored. One of those things is balance.

So, anyway, he sprints over to the human-shaped boxing bags and attempts to kick one. His leg pops out too quickly, however, and he and the seventy-pound dummy fall over with a huge crash.

"You- you idiot!" I shriek as I hear the footsteps pound up the stairs. Only a second later, the door swings open.

Glimmer's mentor stands in the doorway, her hands on her hips, and half of her hair standing straight up.

"What is going on up here?" she asks in a dangerously slow voice.

Glimmer starts to fake-cry. "They made us!" she sobbed, pointing to Cato and I. "The Two's!"

"I have no problem believing that." Marvel's mentor now materializes behind Glimmer's.

The four of them then group together and go back upstairs. Glimmer is still pretending to cry like the baby she is. Right before she leaves, I catch her smirk at me.

"I take back what I said on the train," I tell Cato, taking my anger out on the toppled training dummy by repeatedly kicking it. "She is the one who needs to be careful in the arena! No, I take that back, too. She needs to be careful any time she is ever anywhere near me!"

He somehow gets me out of the training room and onto the elevator, back to floor two. Before the doors open to our floor, he takes my hand in both of this. "In the morning, when they ask, this never happened. Okay?"

I roll my eyes. "What never happened? Honestly, I have a brain, unlike those One's."

We both bite back laughs and step back onto our floor.

As always after a training session, I am left with energy coursing through my veins. After a while of repeating the mayor's speech in my head, I finally am able to fall asleep. My last thoughts before I drift off are of how much fun Glimmer is going to have in the Arena.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning comes much too quickly. While leaving to find the others, I catch a glimpse of the puffy gray circles under my eyes. I'm going to have to try to hide those if there will be any chance of hiding the whole midnight training fiasco.

Cato and I meet in the hallway again. Fortunately, it is light this time, so we avoid another collision. "Why do we keep doing that?" I demand. He takes too long to answer. "Ugh, never mind. When we get in there, act natural, okay? It would already seem suspicious if we go in at the same time."

We step through the doorway and come face-to-face with our mentors. Great.

Marilla's eyes are even puffier than mine. I notice that they also are slightly red. Nevertheless, she is her usual firm self and glares right at us. "No messing around," she commands. "And no denial. It won't work. We know."

"Know? Know what?" My voice raises an octave as I try to cover for us.

Now it is Felix's turn to try and get a confession out of us. "The District One mentors came by last night," he begins. "And they said something rather odd about the both of you being in the training center. But that can't possibly be right. Can it?"

Unlike my currently frozen, spluttering District partner, I have a plan to get out of trouble. So I put on my best diplomatic smile and push a strand of hair behind one ear. "Let's not think about the past," I say in what I hope to be a convincing voice. "Let's think about the present. So, we'll be going down to the Remake Center in a few hours, right?" This is honestly the only thing I'm not looking forward to. Just thinking about it makes me annoyed.

As if on a cue, Tessa bounces in, as bubbly and colorful as ever. Her massive grin is at an odd contrast with our raised eyebrows, irritated frowns, and, in my case anyway, fake smiles.

"That's right, Clove," she chimes. "It is fantastic there. Before I became the escort for your district, I was on a prep team for District... Nine, I think? Or was it Eight? Anyway, you'll love it!" Shrieking, she bounces up and down.

Three hours later, we leave. Whoever thought to have the Remake Center be five minutes away from the Training Center was not exactly a genius. Really, all they're doing is subjecting the tributes to unnecessary irritation from having to listen to the overly-excitable escorts chatter away about... who knows what?

Turning my head to look out the window opposite to me, I briefly catch Felix's eye. Though his facial expression would be considered entirely normal to me a day ago, I now can't help but notice how forced the smile looks.

I want to say something. But how do I do that without revealing what we overheard? And how do I keep that to myself? To be completely honest, hearing something so awful about the Games is really freaking me out.

'But you aren't the only one who heard,' a tiny voice in my head reminds me. But how do I confide in Cato when it comes to my innermost thoughts and feelings? That would make it seem as if I trust him, and I don't! In one week, the two of us will be locked in the arena together. I highly doubt that anything that even hints about me trusting him would be a smart move.

I force myself to forget about that now. I need to stay focused, something I've always been pretty bad at, if I am to win.


	8. Chapter 8

A/n-By the way, some of my friends have asked how the second stylist's name is pronounced. It's pronounced eye-AN-thee. Oh, and I also relied on the movie more than the book for this chapter.

Chapter 8

To make a long story short, we did not love the remake center. In fact, we learned that "remake" is "Capitol-speak" for getting hair ripped from their folicles, layers of skin scraped off with gritty stuff that resembles sand but smells, supposedly, like flowers, and being painted with revolting, chemical make-up. And then it gets boring.

Our stylists, Angelia and Ianthe seem pretty nice, actually. And, being from the Capitol, or Airhead City, as I now mentally call it, they're smart, too. In fact, after prep, they bring Cato and I into the confrence room to explain the whole thought process behind the costumes they designed for the opening ceremonies.

Through a window, though, we're able to see the other tributes, so admitably we don't focus well. We just silently analyze everyone, trying to tell who might actually proove to be some kind of competition.

Most don't seem like they would. A majority are either my height, or a few inches smaller. Most look completely unprepared for this. Though I know that should make me feel that much more confident, it oddly makes me feel horrible.

Pushing the feeling to the back of my mind, I attempt to listen to the history that Angelia and Ianthe have beem explaining. The bit that I hear is kind of interesting, but fragmented by my lack of concentration. While I have always had trouble focusing, it wasn't like this.

Anyway, since I have no idea why I feel this way, I decide that I should go with what I do know. That is, I know that this is what I was preparing for, for pretty much my entire life. I can't let the others, or emotions, into my mind. I can't get distracted by those things. They don't belong in the arena, and certainly not in training, either. So, essentially, I need to stop thinking. Well, at least that won't be too hard.

After some last-minute prep (gold nail polish and matching highlights? Really?), we are brought to where we will wait for the Opening Ceremonies to begin. To prevent any massive rush, it's in district order. So about three minutes after the District One team is led down, ours is directed to follow.

Our mentors aren't present yet, as they are likely going over our prep schedules for our day three interviews. So it's just us and the One's. Fantastic. I glance over at Cato, and we share a quick smirk. I translate this to: may as well have a little fun.

"What's your district's main export again?" I ask, eyeing their abundance of pink feathers. "Flamingos? Or mere stupidity?" The rhinestones interwoven with their fushia plumage glints off of the golden armor that makes up our costumes. The room is suddenly illuminated with tiny pin pricks of light.

Glimmer's face turns to the same color pink that she's wearing. But why wait for her response?

"Having trouble coming up with a reply? What- was I right? Not that it's a suprise, or anything."

She is madder than ever, but the tributes from Three enter before she can say anything. So instead, she just stands there giving me what I'm sure is suppossed to be an intimidating glare. And she stays there until all twenty-four of us are present. In fact, she is almost so preoccupied with me that she somehow fails to realize that she and her partner are moving out and into the Capitol crowd.

About thirty seconds later, we are, too. And its exactly as I dreamed it would be.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Thanks to Tori for editing! :-)

Oh, and if you have any title ideas, send them to me via PM or review. I am going to choose an official title for this story on October 6th (the first Saturday of the month), and whoever suggests the one I choose gets an advance read of the next chapter.

I hope you like this one! :-)

Chapter 9

If the opening was something right from a dream, I don't know how to describe the three days of training. In essence, it was three days to showcase our best abilities. Or lack thereof, in the case of most of the outer district's tributes.

On the third and final day, the training and preparations are more individual than group. Though we do have about an hour in the morning all together to work in various stations scattered throughout the gym, we are soon brought out so that individual scoring can start.

As I will go in fourth, I feel pretty confident. It's early enough in that the Gamemakers wouldn't be bored or distracted, most likely, but I'm also late enough that any kinks in the scoring system would likely be worked out.

All twenty-four of us are brought out into a hallway to prepare for our sessions. Each lasts about five minutes on average, so I figure that I have about fifteen to prepare. Though most seem to be focusing on the emotional aspects- deep breathing or mental meditation- I decide to work on getting ready physically.

So I find a quiet corner at the end of the hallway and start to stretch out my already limber muscles. I really try to push it this time, though; tensing up in front of the Gamemakers is just asking for points to be taken off of my total score. I hope for at least a nine out of twelve, but of course, a twelve would be fantastic.

Too soon before I feel entirely prepared, I hear my name and district number being called. I jump up, tighten my ponytail, and stride back into the gym, shoulders back and with a confident smirk playing on the corners of my lips.

Once I'm in the middle of the gym, I look all twenty or so Gamemakers right in the eyes. I rise to my full height, though I do have the smallest stature they have seen so far. I likely can use that to my advantage, though. Let's say that my score is high, and abilities intimidating, yet the other's won' suspect that. And if the Gamemakers are included in being surprised, the shock may be enough to get them to give me a higher score than they would otherwise…

Surprise. That's my advantage. They have seen my aim in practices, sure, but they don't know my other strengths, such as flexibility, speed, and, as I hope to here, the ability to keep people guessing.

So instead of walking over to the targets to start throwing as I usually do- or as I planned to- I drop into a shoulder roll, and use the momentum that I came out with to take a running start towards the climbing wall. It's risky, and I know that no matter what happens if I fall, they will still put me in the arena, but once I'm at the top, I jump towards the rope course attached to the celling.

At the last second, I grasp the rope by my fingertips. There, I swing across until I am right above my originally planned station. I conclude by following through with my plan. As always, every single target is pierced through the center.

After being dismissed, I give a quick, sweet smile and exit as gracefully as possible. Most don't seem to realize that every single second in front of the Gamemakers counts, including the type of exit you make.

Outside, I am met by a beaming Tessa Nova. Saying nothing about the private training session, she whisks me off to the Remake Center yet again. Apparently the first few districts done are allowed to do their interview prep early before we go back to the Training Center for the interviews.

Today, it's not as awful. All that my prep team does today is repaint my nails to a soft coral and remove the streaks they added to my hair the other day. So for a while, all I do is work on some last-minute planning for my interviews with Marilla. Though each lasts only three minutes, they are, perhaps, the important minutes involved in preparing for the Games. Other than the eight years of training back home, of course. Of course, being seventeen instead of our district's usual eighteen, I had only seven years. Perhaps that is a slight disadvantage, but I had always excelled in our Training Center, anyway.

Anyway, for the interviews, most of the tributes choose a particular spin to put on their personalities. For some, they choose to keep up the act for the entire time they are in the Games. I decide to adopt a false sweetness, though I mix it with some sarcastic sass when the time calls for it. Fortunately, when Angelia enters with the dress she designed for tonight, it seems as if she guessed what I would be doing. The dress seems to have the same personality that I will soon take on. Though it's very feminine, with soft ruffles and a light coral color, it is also slightly edgy, being strapless and slightly above my knees when I put the matching heels on.

"I thought it was a more sophisticated version of what you wore for the Reaping," Angelia explains as she helps me zip up the back. "You were memorable then, because of your energy. I figured that something reminiscent of that would bring that back to the viewer's minds."

Though never being the type to like wearing this kind of outfit, I genuinely like it. "It's absolutely perfect. Thank you."

"Good luck at the interviews," she says with a smile. "Not that you'll need it, or anything. I was talking to Ianthe, the stylist for your district partner, and she says you both are very prepared."

Fantastic. Another opportunity to try to flatter someone on from the Games Headquarters. "Well, we have to be ready, don't we? I mean, you obviously go to such great lengths to be ready for us." I spread out my skirt and turn to face Marilla. "I mean, this couldn't have been designed last-minute, right? It is absolutely lovely!"

Facing Angelia again, I notice that tears of happiness are sparkling on the wings of the pink butterflies that are made from the long lashes surrounding her dark brown eyes. "Aww! That's so sweet. Thank you."

But before I can answer, Tessa runs in, her bright pink lips pulled into a huge smile. "Hi, everyone. So, the training scores just were announced. We don't have time to go back to the Training Center to watch them live, because, and this is an opportunity most district's don't get, they only choose the ones that are historically best, but we're able to go and meet some of the already contracted sponsors before the interviews start. Anyway, I have your scores right here." She finally pauses to take a breath as she consults a slip of paper. "You both got tens!"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Scattered emotions flash through my mind, as uncontrolled as I always have been. A ten?! That is a pretty high score. In fact, if I am right, which I know I am, that is the highest score any tribute has ever gotten. On the other hand, it means I did something wrong. Otherwise, I would have gotten a twelve. Right? I start to analyze my entire routine. I displayed my absolute best, which, as I know from watching the other's in the center, would likely be one of the best that the Gamemaker's would see. So do I have one of the highest scores? I know that I should.

But I also know that my ten isn't the only one. Between our scores, our district, and our first initials, will we blur together in the viewer's minds? I suppose it's possible. The interviews, however, will have to change that.

Anyway, I can't believe that we're going to be able to actually meet the sponsors! There were rumors about some tribute's being able to have that opportunity, but I always thought they were just that; rumors. But there they are, already surrounding the stage set up for tonight's interviews. So, what are we supposed to do? Randomly go up to them and start chatting? I am tempted to roll my eyes and storm out of the place, but the sight of Glimmer stops me. Of course, she had to be from District One, one of the 'historically best' districts that received an invitation. And as seemingly always, she is the center of attention. She has a group of about half the people circled around her. She's talking to them about her score. Somehow, she manages to keep their attention with her mindless giggle. The sight of how easily she manages that makes my blood boil. Of course, anyone can stand around acting like an airhead. Certainly Cato and I will be able to get their attention away from her and keep it on us.

But we have to have something that's worth paying attention to. One of the main things about us that we want to stick in the sponsor's minds is that neither of us will ever back down from a fight, and we have no problem initiating one either. Besides, our mentors, stylists, and Tessa are back at Headquarters approving of the questions we will be asked, so no one will ever find out if we didn't act in the sweet, innocent way they're expecting.

"Go along with me," I whisper, looking for an opening in Glimmer's crowd. Finding one, I'm glad to find that I am just small enough to squeeze through.

"Wow, I nine?" I say in mock surprise, having just overheard her score. "Congratulations! You gained an IQ point!"

Okay, so there's a bit of airy laughing from some of the potential sponsors. A few back up, allowing me to get closer to Glimmer. Of course, even before the Games have started, they want to see a good fight. Good thing I'm ready to give them one, then.

But Glimmer is ready, too. Rather than answer me directly, she decides to interact directly with one of her sponsors. "Silly little kids," She says directly to one, batting her eyelashes while patting me on the head. Though ordinarily she is only about two inches taller than I am, our shoes certainly don't help. Mine are just slightly less than one inch, while hers are almost four. Then, resuming her conversation, she pushes me back in Cato's direction. "Now, as I was saying, according to my mentor, my nine is tied for third-highest.

This is perfect. "As ours said," I say slowly. "Our tens are some of the highest in history." Okay, maybe they didn't use that wording exactly, but it's true.

Perhaps because she knows she won't be able to say anything that I can't counter, Glimmer moves over to Cato instead. This is probably the most stupid move she could possibly make. All I would do is make her look more bubble-headed than she already is in front of her sponsors; she wouldn't feel the consequences until later. But now, she increased the chances that blood will start flowing.

But she doesn't try to fight. In fact, what she does is even more sickening and pathetic. In her very low-cut dress, she leans forward and speaks in a low tone, tracing a long, manicured finger down his arm. I can't make out exactly what she's saying, but his reaction is very loud and obvious. As soon as she stops talking, he places both hands on her shoulders, stands her back upright, and takes a long stride away, calling over his shoulder for her to go and actually put some clothes on. I can't help but agree; that disgusting see-through thing she's wearing? It's horrible.

Once we're back together, he does something very surprising. So surprising, in fact, that I don't notice until his arm is already around my shoulders. Blushing bright red, I jump away and hiss in a low voice, "What was that?"

"Shh," he whispers, looking around. Seeing no one looking at us, he proceeds to explain. "The sponsor's seemed to think there was going to be some sort of 'inter-district romantic twist' this year. I had to prove the wrong, didn't I?"

Rolling my eyes, I push his arm off of me. "Yeah? And what about when I refuse to keep it up?"

"You don't have to do anything. Except don't make friends with Glimmer, probably."

"Like that would happen! Do you know either of us?"

His answer becomes blocked by sound of the anthem of Panem blaring across the stage's speakers. The sponsor's head off the stage, and more groups of people noisily file in. This can all mean only one thing; the interviews are beginning.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The next thing I know, I'm walking across the stage towards Caesar Flickerman. Unlike my private training session in front of the Gamemakers, I go third instead of fourth. The audience, having only seen two others so far, seems to be full of energy and eagerly anticipating the rest. Before I take my seat across from Caesar, I flash a smile in their direction.

After general introductions, Caesar starts to get right into the interview. He mentions the training score, and reminds the audience that tens are some of the highest scores ever.

"Well, that's what I was telling one of my fellow tributes earlier, Caesar." With that, I cock my head and give a sweet smile, exactly as Tessa showed me, except it's directed towards Glimmer. But then, his words sink in. "Wait, some of the highest?" I attempt to regain composure and go back to my sweet façade. Unable to do so, I use the opposite angle I was told to try. "What, did someone get a higher score? Because mistakes are bound to happen."

Yikes. The Gamemaker's could very easily take that the wrong way. So I try to gloss it over. "I mean, our Gamemaker's have to become acquainted with twenty-four of us every single year. Remembering who is who? It must be hard. The Gamemaker role can, after all, only be filled with some of the finest minds in all od f Panem."

Yuck. I never gush. I have just enough time to hope that I was able to pull it off before Caesar moves on to his next question for me; do I feel prepared?

Once again, I cock my head to one side. "Well, Caesar, I hate to sound like I'm bragging, or anything, but it is a well-known fact that my district is one of the best, right? I feel like I am completely ready to represent it, and therefore I feel like I am ready for anything I may come across in the arena." I nod in the direction of the Gamemaker's. "Not that you won't keep us all guessing in there, of course. Actually, my district partner's mentor? He won the year when the landscape of the arena changed each day. That was absolutely genius on your part." Okay, back to Caesar now, I tell myself.

After a few more questions, and a bit more gushing, the timer goes off, signaling the end of my interview.

Once I'm back with the rest of the tributes, I watch as Cato goes up. His angle can't be more different than mine. Though I had the occasional moment of sass, he remains aggressive the entire time. Perfect. Any possible illusions we had to similarities could possibly be broken now. Yet, we remain a team. Hopefully, that won't seem like something our mentor's forced upon us. Perhaps the sponsors will see that as us both having different strengths and different weaknesses, therefore balancing each other out.

Team. Is that what we are now? I mean, naturally we would have joined the tributes from Districts One and Four in an alliance, but were we a team before now? Actually, now that I think about it, he has been more tolerable lately. Before I get a chance to really think about this sudden change of personality, the timer is buzzing and the next tribute, a surprisingly tall girl from District 3. Her angle of shyness matches her from the Training Center, so I can interpret this in two ways; either she decided to just be herself, or she has been acting all along in an attempt to convince us all that she isn't a threat, when in reality she is. A few years ago, the female tribute from District Seven, Johanna Mason, used that strategy. That was the seventy-first.

A few minutes later, her district partner is up. I have to say that he makes absolutely no impression on me whatsoever. The other districts slip by. We watch our allies from Four, Marisol and Wade, as they both act aloof yet intelligent, though Marisol also throws in a bit of an eccentric twist.

The rest are pretty pathetic. The last two districts up, at least, are fairly memorable. The boy from Eleven, who we tried to get into our alliance but had to settle for making him our biggest target once in the arena, seems like he couldn't care less about what's going on. Instead, he answers questions with either yes or no, or remains completely silent.

The girl from Twelve is, as always, insubstantial. In fact, she reminds me a bit of Glimmer. Both of them only made impressions at the Opening Ceremonies because of their stylists, and, again, they both spent a majority of their interviews twirling around in sparkles, giggling. Yet the audience is bubble-headed enough to enjoy them both.

Though we're all supposed to be quiet while the interviews are going on, I can't resist this one. Looking around to the tributes next to me, I smirk and loudly whisper, "Does anyone think we'll ever be able to get that stupid giggle out of our heads?" Then, specifically to Glimmer, "Why didn't you tell me you had a long-lost younger sister?"

Perhaps worse than her was her district partner. So, he started off just acting like an idiot, and then it got boring. Caesar spent about a minute trying to get some confession of love out of him, or whatever. Eventually, when he mentions his district partner, the audience goes crazy. Most of them are screaming or crying, or just otherwise overly-emotional. Can't they see that it's fake?

Disgusted, I turn to Cato. I, of course, expect him to agree with me on this one. I never expected to see him staring down at the ground, blushing a bright red.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "I mean, I know that was bad, but-" I allow my voice to trail off.

Slowly, tentatively, he nods. The relief only lasts a moment before he speaks. "He isn't the only one."

"Eww! You mean you like Katniss! That's disgusting. I thought you hated her." But then, it dawns on me. Katniss isn't his district partner; I am. Cato just admitted to having a crush on me.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

My heart jumps up into my throat. What?! I just... I can't deal with that. Why would he be saying that? It has to all be a trick. Right? Obviously, it isn't real. It's all just a strategy. Not a very well-thought out one, as I saw through it in seconds, but a strategy nonetheless.

Is that all that my emotions are to him? Something to play with until there is something, whether it is more screen time, more sponsors, or simply a more sympathetic audience, to be gained?

But his plan won't work if I don't let it. The second we are allowed to leave the outdoor stage set up for the interviews, I storm back inside. We're supposed to go right to the elevators and to our floor to prepare for tomorrow, whether that means going to sleep early, or having one last strategy session. But when have I ever been one for rule-following?

So I go into a random elevator, and find the tributes from Districts Ten and Eleven, and the boy from District Twelve. The sight of him reminds me of what happened moments ago. So when the elevator stops at the tenth floor, I run off.

Locating a staircase, I run down to the lobby. Going as fast as I can, I do what was, perhaps, the most immature thing I have done in a while, and that is really saying something; I run out of the still-open doors and down the candy-pink sidewalk.

To be honest, I have no idea where I am going. All I know is that Tessa eventually is right behind me. She is actually pretty fast, given that most Capitol citizens are hopelessly unathletic and she is still wearing four-inch heels. I should have remembered that many of the districts' still had team members downstairs.

"What was that, Clove?" she shrieks at me. Of course, I knew that I was going to get a lecture on proper protocol. "Your interview was lovely, but that exit? Absolutely unacceptable! And you are now out here, why?"

Quickly, I explain about what happened, and why exactly I reacted the way I did. Surely she would understand why I can't go along with the plan.

But she doesn't. "You thought that was just a strategy? A lie to manipulate others? It was real. It was an honest reaction that you obviously took the wrong way."

"And how do you know that? How can you be so sure?"

Tessa takes a deep breath. "Just trust me on this, okay?"

"Fine. How about this. I'll come back to the Training Center. If I believe him then, well, I'll deal with that if I have to. If I still don't feel like this is more than a plan, then I'm out of the alliance. If all that I am to the rest of them is a way to get sympathy, then they must not know what I'm capable of. Therefore, they don't need me"

Agreeing, Tessa leads me back upstairs to Floor Two. "Remember," she says, back in her cheery, bubbly tone. "Try not to act like you hate him."

'Great advice, thanks," I snap. "I never would have figured that one out."

Well, there he is, as if waiting for my return. Crossing my arms, I take tiny, measured steps over to him. Remembering something one of the trainer's from the center back home would always say, about making the first move so that your opponent wouldn't have control, I begin to speak. "We met on my first day at the Training Center. I was ten, and you were eleven. We talked to each other pretty much every day since then, even though we were never good friends. Why didn't you tell me how you really felt until tonight? Do you realize how fake it seemed? Or how fake it still feels to me?" I can tell that he is about to protest. "And don't deny it!" I say to cut off his words. "It can't be real."

How do I show him that I know he is lying? A specific question, maybe? It's worth a try. "Okay, then. Tell me this. At exactly which point did you start to feel that way about me?"

"This is going to sound crazy," he begins. Already, I can tell by his confidence that he was telling the truth earlier. "But it all started that day when we first met Glimmer. The way that you absolutely refused to give in to insecurities, wouldn't give up until you made your point so clearly better, but maintained a sense of humor. So I started to think. All of the pieces, the ones that have been popping up for so long now, snapped right in place. Does that make any sense?"

"It does. It's just- why didn't you tell me before now? I would have reacted differently if I had known. The way that I did was terrible, and I'm really sorry about it. But it isn't the only thing I'm sorry about." I drop my gaze, and my voice lowers to a whisper. "I'm sorry that I don't feel the same way."

Once those words leave my mouth, I look up again, waiting for his reaction. When I see it, I'm shocked. An unwelcome tear is forming in the corner of one eye, though he blinks it away the second I notice it. "I always knew you wouldn't," he says in the same quiet tone I used. In a moment of uncharacteristic gentleness, he reaches out and pushes a lock of my hair out of my face.

But I allow my instincts to take over. I grab his hand and shove it away from me and take off running in the opposite direction.

I lock myself in my room, furious. Only this morning, I reminded myself to ignore emotion, and now I allowed myself to be pulled right into it. Taking Tessa's advice, I weakened myself. Why, why, why?! If I didn't react the way I did earlier, I wouldn't have found out.

In a weird way, the fact that he was telling the truth is flattering. Maybe I would feel differently if we weren't both only about twelve hours away from the arena. If, and maybe this is crazy, but maybe if we somehow both were able to go back home…

That's it! The audience went crazy with delight with the first confession. Maybe if the audience has not just one, but two pairs of district partner's in love with each other, the rules will be changed so that the show isn't us all against each other, but the twelve's against us… Maybe they would even allow two of us to win.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, I find both of the mentors and explain my plan. Fairly enthusiastic, they go off and find Cato.

"Here's the thing," I start, quickly explaining my idea. "But I'm only acting. When we come out, when emotions won't endanger us-" I allow a smile to creep onto my face. "Then I'll re-analyze how I feel."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Cornucopia is right in front of us. It is a massive horn that appears to have somehow been woven right out of solid gold. Surrounding it, as well as inside, are the supplies that will, along with any sponsorship or previously developed skills, keep us alive in this arena. But to obtain any of it, you have to be among the best of the best. Fortunately, my allies and I are known across the country for what we are capable of. They may be lacking in many areas, but they have their skills.

Sixty seconds to go. Positioning my feet, I prepare to run right for the center of the collection.

Fifty seconds. Now, I am analyzing my competition. I'm not near anyone from our alliance. Instead, I am on the left side of the girls from District Five, the one who seemed so mysterious during our interviews, and Eleven. They are pretty much guaranteed to run from the Cornucopia. But across from the girl from Eleven is her district partner. While he might run with his partner, I find it more likely that he will run right into the thick of the fighting.

Twenty seconds. I take a deep breath and flex my calf muscles, readying myself for the quick sprint required to be one of the first to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one. We get the signal to go, to start running, to start the Games. I am actually one of the first ready.

On top of a box of filled water containers is a package of blades, perfectly sized for my hands. Tearing the plastic top off, I grab one by the handle, find a random tribute, and let it spiral out of my hand. Though a wave of shock passes through me, one that I have never felt in all of my years of training, passes through me at my actions, the adrenaline coursing through me allows for me to ignore it and keep going. Again and again, I hear the sound of impact. Only one of the four tributes I aim for are able to block my throw. Of course, it has to be that annoying girl from Twelve, the one who reminded me so much of Glimmer at the interviews…

Speaking of Glimmer, I haven't seen her, or any of my other allies, since the fight started. They were all on the opposite side of the circle from me, and it seems as if

we went in different directions. But by now, with most of the other tributes dispersing, we are some of the only ones left.

I hear the other's calling my name. Turning around, I see Glimmer bouncing up and down, shrieking. "You have to come over here, right now!"

For once, there is no hint of dislike in her voice. Of course, our rivalry doesn't belong here, not while our alliance is paramount to our survival. For once, I have to work with her. So, squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, I run over to where the group is laughing. Once I get closer, I can see that Cato has that pathetic boy from Twelve pinned to the side of the Cornucopia. They seem to be in the middle of a heated debate, but I don't care. The see-through act that he put on during the interviews is the only reason that Cato and I now have to convince the audience how we're madly in love, when in reality it was improvement when we managed to be within of twenty feet of each other without there being a fight. So, without hesitation, I stomp up to him and kick him as hard as I can.

"What are you waiting for?!" I scream at the rest of my allies. "Why hesitate?" Then it dawns on me. They think that, if we can somehow get him to join us, we'll be led right to her. Apparently, she was the one who got that eleven in training. To be honest, I can't help but wonder how she got a score so high. It had to be a mistake.

Eventually I hear myself, but not myself, my instead instincts taking over instead, agreeing with the others. But I know for sure that he isn't going to bring us right to her. Oh, he'll claim to be trying. Of course he'll pretend. Therefore, it's up to use to set up the guidelines. And then, of course, be prepared to reinforce them. Well, there are six- no, I don't have any idea where Wade is, probably ran into the forest with the others- five of us who have been prepared for this for a majority of our lives. We have skills he can only dream of, and he knows it.

"Okay, look," I bark out at him. "You have the first four days. If you don't bring us to her by then, well, you saw what we did here." I gesture to the signs of our destruction. "You first, then, mark my words, we will find her. Do I make that clear?"

Without waiting for his response, I look around at the others. Most seem to think four days is too generous, but I doubt she'll last the first four hours. All we have to do is give him the illusion that we see her as a threat, make him think that we believed that she deserved that eleven, or that we believed that he even deserved his eight. What were those Gamemaker's thinking? They must not have been.

So the group of us, after a quick moment of planning, decide to head off into the forest and look for the rest. Before we do that, though, we bring the rest of the stuff from the Cornucopia to the side of a lake, only thirty yards from where we are now. But then, it's into the woods we go.

I am so lost in thought that I jump when, on our way in, Cato grabs my hand. Admittedly, it isn't right until that I am about to start screaming at him that I remember what we're pretending. I don't suppose we have done too good a job so far, so I attempt to imitate Glimmer somewhat and give him what I hope is a semi-flirtatious smile.

So, to make up for forgetting earlier, I wear that mask for as long as I can. But, a few hours before dawn, the trails of smoke leading, most likely, to another tribute causes a satisfied smirk to push it off.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

For a second, we're all frozen in the chilly night air. For the first time since the countdown ended, we are all completely still. We're in waiting, ready to anticipate the other's movement, but no one wanting to make the first move. We do have some options; wait and see if the fire draws in other tributes for a fight. Of course, that will provide us with an opportunity to narrow down the remaining tributes even further.

It is likely, however, that we are the only ones still awake, or paying any attention to the fire-starter. It is as though I am the first to reach this conclusion. Twisting my fingers, I break out of Cato's grip and run, full-speed, into the woods.

Being the most graceful and the smallest, I can actually run pretty quietly. But, if I didn't know who was behind be, I would assume I was being chased by some pack of elephant mutts. It doesn't matter, though, not like it would for the others. Noise caused by the outer district's tributes is, in essence, them broadcasting their location across the arena, specifically to us.

We, on the other hand, find delight in making this noise. It gives us yet another chance to prove to the others that we don't fear them, that we don't even consider them to be real opponents. One may think that, when they hear us, the others would run. Quite frequently, at least the way it always seemed to happen in the past, was the tribute attempting escape would run right into whoever they were running from. We have nothing but reasons to carry on like this. And so, of course, we do.

After about ten minutes and a mile and a half or so into the forest, we smell the smoke. Though the campfire has obviously burned out a few hours ago, and we likely saw it in its final stage of burn-out, the embers are still glowing a soft orange, giving a false sense of security. Then, we find the tribute who started it.

If I remember correctly from the night of the interviews, her name is Sanannah, and she is from District Eight. Surprisingly, when we walk over to her, she is still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of our presence.

At least, she is until District Twelve trips over a twig, snapping it inches from her ear. When her eyes snap open, Cato and Glimmer are standing right over her face, with Marvel and I next to opposite shoulders. District Twelve hovers awkwardly about a yard from her feet. I watch as her eyes dart around, searching for a way out. Panicking, she launches herself into a fast crawl, attempting to get past Twelve. He is leaving her the biggest gap, of course. But then, always having had near-perfect reflexes, Cato grabs her around her waist. His coming attack really was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of thing. One second, She was fighting against him, trying to wriggle out of his arms, and the next her blood is on his hands. As I hear her drawn-out, cold scream, something cold seems to twist inside of me. It's the exact thing I experienced at the Cornucopia.

I can't let the others know about these flashes. I know what they are; guilt. One of the very things we trained against. If they find out, they will abandon me for sure. I don't need them, that's for sure. I just have to stay with them. That's how it always has been, back in the district. I need to make them proud. Everyone back in the training center who ever said I was too small, not powerful enough, I'll make them eat their words and stay true to our district's traditions. So I have to bury these emotions as deeply as I can. As I was the first to come in, I am the first to turn away.

But, only fifteen yards away, some of the others start to debate going back. Of course, Glimmer has to have chosen this moment to fill her head with something other than air.

"Shouldn't we have heard the cannon by now? Or seen the hovercraft? I mean, we're far enough away for them to send one in. Aren't we? Let's go back."

"No!" I protest a bit too loudly and much too insistently. "I mean, we can't." Flashing yet another falsely sweet and flirtatious smile, I continue. "I have complete faith in Cato. He knows what he's doing."

Rolling her eyes, Glimmer turns away from me. Annoy Glimmer? Check.

After a moment of debate, with Cato and Marvel taking my side, and Twelve taking Glimmer's, we decide that one of us may as well go back in. Hoping for an opportunity to leave Twelve behind, I attempt to flatter him. "Why don't you go? It would be such a great chance to prove yourself. What? You aren't loyal to us or something? Should day four come-" I pause for dramatic effect, and glance at the wet redness still glistening on Cato's hands. "A bit early? No? Well, then, go on."

After a second's hesitation, he does. After his footsteps stop, there is no sound until the cannon fires.

It takes a moment for him to re-join us, though. So I decide that I may as well seize this opportunity.

Startlingly, though, Glimmer already is. Batting her long eyelashes, she is trying to flirt with both of our district partners at once. "Let's just leave him behind. Please?"

Before either of them have the opportunity to respond, Twelve is back. Glimmer, who was just moments ago complaining about him, shrieks with joy. "That was totally fabulous! I mean, we didn't see it but-" Breaking off, she gives him one of the dazzling smiles she continuously was giving the audience last night. "You're one of us now."

To be honest, though, I'm starting to regret being considered a part of this group. What does it mean to be a part of it? To sacrifice humanity for tradition? To substitute emotion for instinct? I don't know. So I go along with it; it's all that I know, after all. So I join in with the others, celebrating our so-called ;victory.'

But looking around at the faces of my allies, now in full view thanks to the rising sun, I can't help but wonder how many other smiles are forced. Quite frankly, I don't know if mine will ever be real again.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Judging by the way that the sky is painting the sky both orange and gray, we return to the campsite at around five thirty or so. Though I really hate it, I realize that I have to join the rest of them in their conversation. No, I have to do more than that; if they noticed that something was different about me on the way back, then I would now have to make up for it. So, forcing a laugh like theirs, I jump in.

That's when I remember that not only do I need to make up for my sudden personality change, but keep it up. Not just for the next few minutes, which I can probably manage, but for the rest of the time in the arena.

Then it hits me; I may have to keep up the act for a lot longer. If my other than doesn't backfire, I won't be the only one going back to District Two.

Wait, backfire? It hasn't even worked. Then again, we haven't really given the audience any reason to find it real…

It isn't, of course, like Glimmer is going to make it easy. Yes, somehow she is continuing to mock the other tributes while flirting with both of our district partners. Again. Is t weird that I get a sense of satisfaction to see that they both seem quite bored, even a bit disgusted?

Anyway, I know that I should use her failing attempts to my advantage. I gather up every bit of anger I feel towards myself, and storm over to her, getting between her and Cato.

For a moment, I glare at her, despite the fact that everyone else's eyes are on me. "I suggest you stop" I manage to say calmly. In fact, it's almost a whisper.

Glimmer glances at me, then at him, and laughs. "What? You think that you two are any more than allies? I always thought you must be delusional."

I have always wanted to do this. Now, I finally have a good opportunity. I lunge at her. Though she is larger than I am, the element of surprise allows me to push her over to the ground. After that, though, she is fighting back. Though it is not too long before the others manage to pull me off of her.

That doesn't necessarily mean that I am entirely calm. Both surprisingly and predictably, it is Cato who tries to calm me down. He says something about me needing to calm down, takes my hand, and leads me into the forest.

For a few seconds, he is gazing into my eyes and, ever so gently, wiping off the blood that Glimmer's fingernail has drawn from my lip. I look up, just in time to see him slide his hand across my face, allowing for his fingers to become tangled in my hair. But then, it seems as though the world stops, and we're the only people on earth. The next thing I know, he leans in and presses his lips against mine.

Somehow, though it only lasts a couple of seconds, a million thoughts race through my mind. Somehow, I end up feeling like I'm both tingling and melting. Perhaps the melting comes from the pleasant, cozy warmth spreading throughout me.

Once we break apart, I'm confused, though. I'm only supposed to be pretending, so why did I find myself enjoying that so much? Why did it feel so right? Why do I find myself wondering if, perhaps, I felt the same way he said that he did all along…

I suppose that is possible. Maybe, with the possibility of the rule change, my mind has finally allowed my heart to take over. So, for the first time in a while, I allow a smile to creep out. After just a few seconds, though, we're interrupted.

It's Glimmer. Irritated that she has to come in to wreck this, I begin to glare. Of course, she just rolls her eyes at me.

"Well, I was going to apologize to you," she begins carelessly. "But now, I'm not so sure. By the way, I saw the whole thing. Quite interesting, really." She pauses, allowing for a quick smirk. "Interesting, seeing as where we are."

For once, I force myself not to speak. That's what she thinks. Of course, this is interesting; it's interesting that no one has thought of our plan before.

But more interesting is feeling the plan become real.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next day passes with no real action. For a majority of the tributes, today will likely be consumed with attempting to find supplies they were unable to get from the Cornucopia. For most, that would be water. The arena is so hot during the day that dehydration is a primary risk for most of them, almost as much as it was two years ago when the arena was a desert with one oasis on the far side, surrounded by both quicksand and lizard mutts.

So, for the first part of the day, we get ready to track down the others and come up with a plan. Of course, when you try to get people with limited brain capacities, like the District One's, to plan alongside with the, admittedly, shorter tempered such as Cato and I, well… It doesn't happen without a few arguments.

Anyway, after a few hours, we locate a quickly-moving stream. This may be significant to the others. At least one of them must be hiding out nearby. So for a while, we follow it in one direction, and then in the other. Eventually, the sun is setting and we haven't found anyone. It is on our way back that I see a stripe of blue coming from between a gap in the boulders.

Being the smallest and most agile, I look to the others and nod, hoping that they understand my plan. If they don't, I'm sure they will once they see what I do.

I climb across the side of the boulder, and then leap up onto the top of the one that the blue streak is on the other side of. Relieved to find that the gap is large enough to fix my wrist through, although it would be much too small for the others, except possibly Glimmer, I reach through. My finger's brush the fleecy inside of another tribute's jacket, and I hold it in a tight fist.

By this time, the others have joined me and started to circle around to the other side until we are surrounding this tribute, the boy from District Ten. Though it is obvious that he is cornered, his eyes dart around. But, unlike the girl from District Eight, he makes no escape attempt. In fact, he stands to fight.

Glimmer is the one right in front of him, so she, sensing possible conflict, goes against him in pretty much the same was she did with me last night; cat-style, she claws him across the face. But, this time, it's more serious. Her fingernail, which she must have sharpened to a point, catches him in the eyelid. With an eyeful of dripping blood, he stumbles backward and onto one of the jagged rocks.

Judging by the sound of impact and splintering, as well as the gasping sound with each breath, we may as well move on. The impact obviously broke several ribs, and possibly ruptured a lung. There isn't any point in staying around. Even if we don't hear the cannon for a few hours, possibly days, we will hear it soon.

So we go on, though not back to the campsite. Instead, we go deeper into the forest, looking for the others.

I most expect to find the girls from Districts Eleven and Five. In fact, they seemed so similar that I wouldn't be surprised if they formed an alliance. Not that it could even begin to rival ours, of course.

At nightfall, though, we are all so exhausted that we decide to set up a temporary camp out here. And all goes surprisingly smoothly; no one argues, there aren't any disturbances, and it seems as though the audience's craving for entertainment was quelled, as the Gamemaker's allow us some peace.

But later, or early the next morning as it is probably past midnight, the world turns into flames.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Dropping everything, we run through the smoky woods with only one destination in mind; the lake. It's all the way on the other side of the arena, though. Luckily, it seems as though the flames are only in the forest. Getting a few tiny, minor burns in the processes, we manage to reach the same stream that we found the boy from District Ten next to earlier. Somehow, he has managed to climb onto a boulder, high enough that the smoke is less concentrated. It is true, of course, that smoke rises, but, as this smoke is artificial, it only reaches about fifteen feet or so.

But, for now, we forget about him. Dropping down, we crawl, single-file, through the stream. Down here, where we vary in height from about two to three feet, it is a lot easier to breathe. There are only a few scattered embers, rather the climbing flames, so it is much cooler in comparison. Still, some of the ember's catch onto the occasional dryer leaf and burn for a few minutes.

I'm the lowest to the ground, being the smallest, so I seem to be having an easier time breathing than the others. Still, compared to some of the others, of course, we are probably the most prepared for this. Of course we are! We're the most prepared for all of this.

After a few minutes, we get caught in a current where the stream bends. This happens a few more times, and is mixed with more half-swimming. But eventually, the stream flows into the lake.

As soon as we get to the area between, we dive under the water and swim in the direction of the campsite. Luckily, the Gamemaker's filled the lake with cool fresh water, so we don't have to worry about salt getting in or infecting the burns. That is when I notice where the others must be.

I am so lost in the thought of a new strategy that I must have slowed down in my swimming. Cato grabs my hand, probably thinking that I'm in trouble, and easily pulls me along with him. We are the first two back, but Glimmer and Marvel aren't far behind us.

Looking out in the distance, we see Marisol easily treading water as she instructs Twelve on how to get to shore. Once again, I am proven right; he doesn't belong with us.

For once, Glimmer agrees with me. But it is day three of the seven we allotted to him. Almost half of the time is gone. There really isn't any point in leaving him now. After all, there is still time to be brought to the other one from District Twelve.

Once the other two are finally on the shore, I explain how the others will likely be at a water source. The others agree with me. Apparently, I wasn't the only one to come to this conclusion. After a few minutes of preparation, we are going back down the river. There isn't anyone over here, though, so we break away from the stream and head into the forest for a minute. But after another few minutes over here, we come to where the river cuts into the forest.

Was this here before? Or did the Gamemaker's add it in under the cover of the once-heavy smoke? Well, it dissolved to a thin mist, now, and we know their secret. But are we the only ones? I doubt it. Still, it takes a few moments of silent debate between the six of us, mostly through raised eyebrows and quick nodding, before we're heading downhill in the same direction of the stream.

A few miles downhill, we come across a small pond. There are various trees in the background, but this one is reminiscent of a desert oasis. The river bank is sandy, and there are rock formations that seem to have been here for ages. The only thing hiding it from view of the rest of the forest is a few scraggly bushes. That means that, through the insubstantial cover they provide, we are able to see a tiny glint of gold as it catches the sunlight. It seems that the black fabric underneath this metallic object is a tribute jacket. In the moment I allow myself to observe, I notice that this has to be one of the smaller female tributes. Which one? Five? Eleven? Twelve?

Either way, she doesn't seem to have noticed us yet. At least not until something, probably a squirrel falling out of one of the trees in the background, makes her turn her head away from us.

Yes, it is the girl from District Twelve. I can tell by long braid and freckles dotting the back of her neck.

Being the ones with the fastest reflexes, Glimmer, Cato, and I are the first to start running after her, though the others aren't too far behind.

Unfortunately, we pushed her back farther into her most comfortable domain. Despite the obvious burns across the palms of her hands, she scrambles up one of the nearest trees.

Though it was probably not the brightest idea, seeing as he is the largest of the six of us, Cato insists on following her up into the tree. But, a few feet up, one of the branches breaks, and he is back on the ground with the rest of us.

Eventually, I catch his eye. Not wanting to speak out loud, as it would support our act more if it seems as though we can tell what the other is thinking, I look upward, nod slightly, and look up again. I hope that he is getting the message I am meaning for him to; let me go up.

If he does understand this, he doesn't like it. As quickly as he can without alerting the others to the fact that we had any communication, he is shaking his head.

But we have to get her somehow, don't we? Somehow, sooner or later, she will be ours…

But I, along with most of us down here, prefer sooner over later. Though it shocks me to admit, it's Twelve who quells our impatience. Somewhat grudgingly, we set up a camp below her.

So, after nightfall, we all drift off to sleep with senses of satisfaction, power, and safety.

But the buzzing in the morning confirms that the safety was an illusion.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Tracker jacker's. They have to be. Based on the size of the nest that must have fallen down- no, there are markings on the branch; it must have been cut off of the tree- these aren't normal wasps. With the outdoor survival training back in District Two, I have been around wasps for as long as I can remember.

With a swarming buzz, they all come out, going so quickly that they look like long gold streaks against the early morning sky.

The next thing I am aware of is one of the other's pulling on my hand and shouting for me to run. Too focused on staring at the squashed hive, I don't look to see who it is, and the buzzing is distorting their voice too much. After a few seconds, though, I feel this person let go of my hand, and run somewhere behind. Cato.

I begin to run after him, knowing that he is likely headed towards a fight. He is probably stung, and physical exertion raises heart rate, speeding up venom absorption. I know for a fact that I am the only one who really can keep him calm.

Almost the exact same second that I start running after him, there is a sharp pinch on the back of my left shoulder. A tracker jacker…

The moment it stings me, I begin to feel dizzy. Of course, this was one of the effects that are often described. Along with the hallucinations…

I have to fight them. If the hallucinations come on, full force, well, I know what will happen. The tracker jacker's are designed to show the person's worst fears, in vivid, realistic detail. Once again, I would be viewed as the weak link in the team.

Unfortunately, I come to this conclusion as two get me on either side, both on my ankles. Now the world is spinning. Spinning, and nonsensical…

Why is it all turning blue? No, green now. Brown? Purple? Pink? Now, I can't tell one color from the next, and it all just looks oddly sparkly.

Someone else, not Cato, scoops me up as easily as one would a puppy or tiny baby, and begins to carry me back to the lake. But is this real? He doesn't seem to be fake, like the rest of the world…

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I am able to connect his face to a name. Marvel…

Though I am not sure of anything right now, I get the sense I can trust him. And Cato. Cato… Where is he? Why isn't he here with us, now?

I have just enough time to whisper his name before a fourth tracker jacker grazes the palm of my right hand, and I assume that I pass out. All I can be sure about is that the hallucinations have begun…

_Failure. That's the first thing I experience in this crazy, abnormal world. Failure, and the feeling that I let someone else down…_

_No. More than just someone. Everyone. I see the face of everyone I have ever cared about. My parents, siblings, a few friends and close instructors from the training center, our mentors and a few prep team members .Even Cato is here. _

_I let all of these people down. I know that they hate me. Because I failed. At what, I cannot be sure. But something. Something important to them…_

I think I am back in reality now. But I can't be sure. Not until I can be sure that at least one of those people doesn't hate me. So I stay here. I stay influenced by the tracker jacker's…

I think that pinching sensation in my right arm is another sting. But it fades too quickly. And when it does, everything seems clearer. More… real, I guess.

I want to believe that this is all over. But what if it isn't? So slowly, cautiously, I allow my eyes to open.

While I was out, Cato must have continued with the act. Though I know that, for him, 'act' isn't the right word. Anyway, between the fact that my head is positioned on top of his lap, and he is still stroking my hair back, and the silver parachute next to him, it was believable.

Since the palm of one hand is still swollen and stinging from the tracker jacker's, I push myself into the sitting position using my elbows. Oddly, I'm not too dizzy. The effects are rumored to last for days…

That must have been what the parachute held: Something to counter-act the venom. If so, it must be something pretty uncommon. The sponsors must have been very pleased.

Still, I feel a bit disoriented. Even with the anti-venom, the stings seem to have affected me more strongly than the others, most likely since I'm the smallest. Upon realization of this, I half-expect Glimmer to make some joke about my height, or rather lack thereof. But she stays silent. Weird…

At Cato's gentle insistence, I eventually drift off back to sleep. But, a few hours later, I see why Glimmer was 'silent' earlier.

Because she's in the sky tonight.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Honestly, I'm not sure how to react. I would be lying if I said that I was upset, but still… Honestly, I'm kind of relieved. True, a metaphorical link in the chain was cut, but it was such a weak one…

Perhaps it's true that silence is golden. I'm really unsure of the other's feelings, but I figure I can't say the wrong thing if I don't say anything at all… Yes, that's it. I'll just stay here, still held surprisingly gently in Cato's strong arms, and stay quiet. But still, one thing nags at the back of my mind slightly…

"So, where's Twelve?" I blurt out, unable to wait any longer. Maybe without him and Glimmer slowing the rest of us down, it will be better. Maybe it was the slowness that was causing my previous guilt. If I could do everything more quickly, maybe I won't feel as much… Of course, that will also mean getting back to Two more quickly… Yes, this is all a very good thing.

As soon as the words leave my lips, I can feel as Cato stops absent-mindedly playing with my hair. Pushing myself back into a sitting position, I look up and see splatters of what appears to be dried blood on his fingers.

"That's where you went?" Okay, the whole 'staying quiet' thing is not going to happen. But I'm okay with that… "You went off to fight alone?!"

Alright, so I'm yelling. And I probably can be heard by every other tribute… But I don't care! Not about being found! Any one of us can easily fight off anyone in this place. We all know it… I guess that's what makes my next argument so ineffective.

"What if something happened to you?" As I say it, I know that I feel something real. This isn't just an act anymore. The cameras don't matter now! Both of us have to get out of here, safe and sound. We need to think of something…. Fast. I know that, in order to get the both of us back, I am going to have to ignore any and all emotion that I may feel. The guilt, the uncertainty, the anger towards myself… that all needs to go. I just need to focus on what is driving me to get us both back.

There isn't really any word for how it feels. Most of the other girls I know from the training center would say that I am 'in love' right now. But I'm not sure if I truly love Cato yet. Maybe I do, as a friend. But then is possible to also like him in a possibly romantic way? I contemplate this for a moment before I look back us into his steely blue eyes, looking for a reaction to my previous outburst.

Honestly, I am a bit stunned by the reaction that I do receive, because it seems to opposite from what I expected. Slowly, gently, he holds me close, and softly kisses me on the cheek.

A slow blush creeps up on me. But still, I'm smiling. I lock my eyes onto his, and a silent understanding passes through us; this isn't fake anymore. There is no turning back now.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The next day, Marvel is out frolicking in the forest for no reason whatsoever. I honestly want to know what goes on in his mind. It's annoying at first, but then there is the sound of twigs snapping at random, hushed human voices, and two pairs of footsteps. Looking at each other for a second, Cato and I jump up and see that Marvel actually succeeded in something for once. Well, in seventeen years, it's bound to happen at least once, right? Anyway, he is half-leading, half-dragging who I am pretty sure is the boy from District Three.

I can't help but feel a stab of guilt when I see the fear in his eyes. So I hesitate for a second, and turn to the other two. "District Three. Security and electronics. Piece it together." I point to where the supposedly inactive landmines from the pedestals at the beginning are buried. "If we can get him to rewire them-"

"It would be the ultimate protection for all of this stuff." Cato smiles as he finishes my sentence.

I nod, softening for a second as he smiles softly in my direction. Blushing slightly, I turn back to District Three. "Alright, you heard that? You have one hour."

It is actually pretty interesting to watch. It seems as if exact calculations of trigger points were considered, as well as how much weight it can support without being set off. It must be for that reason that everything is tiered, like a pyramid constructed out of several rectangles on top of each other, with a pathway up the top. Once the safe areas are pointed out, it is obvious that either Three or I will have to go up, as we are the only ones small enough. Suddenly there are benefits to being the littlest in my year back in Two…

I decide to take a test run up the side. Before I go, Cato reaches out and pulls me into a tight hug. "Be careful," he whispers, pushing a strand of hair out of my face.

"Of course," I respond, grinning. "I kind of have plans on getting us back to Two, after all." After a moment, he finally lets me go.

Taking a deep breath, I leap onto the first safe spot, side-step, leap again, and land on a platform made of plastic boxes. Long step, short step, jump, sidestep, jump again… I'm going over everything in my mind until I reach the top.

A branch snaps in the distance. It doesn't fall, but I can tell that there is most likely another tribute out there, probably climbing around in the trees. But I'm not sure; I don't hear anything else, after all… It's probably just a squirrel. Yes, that's it. I can see its tail now, just barely, as it scales the tree higher. Only a really tiny person could make it up that high without falling…

So I come back down, reversing the pattern, and grinning madly. "It worked. It really, really worked." I'm so glad it did. Looking back on it, this trap could have been messed up on purpose, with Three hoping to get rid of one of his toughest opponents. But still, if something had happened to me up there, he would have had to outrun the other two… That's not very likely.

This pretty much confirms it; as soon as we find the loophole, or receive the miracle of a rule change, we're going back to Two.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

I spend a majority of the next few today's thinking. Mostly about how we can get out of here, but I'm also trying to figure everything out. I've never been good at untangling emotions, so it's taken a while. Luckily, the Gamemaker's have been satisfied enough to allow us to have a few peaceful days to come up with new strategies. I can't be sure, of course, as there could just be a lot of fighting going on elsewhere in the arena, but it probably has something to do with the crowd's satisfaction with the near-constant snuggling between Cato and I...

By the second day of this however, the two of us are getting very irritated with Marvel's constant attempts at humor. Honestly, how exactly does one live for seventeen years while missing an organ as vital as the brain? So I snap. After my approximately four hundredth episode of forced, exceptionally fake laughter, I can't take it anymore! I need some time away from this loon!

"You aren't helping anything!" I shriek, pointing madly at the forest line. "So just… go. Just… do something productive, for once! Tribute hunting, or- or- or something!"

Surprisingly, another big, goofy, annoying grin spreads across his face, as if I just granted permission. Well, he was free to leave at any time! I continue to glare at his retreating form until I'm sure that he isn't coming back.

Turning around, I see Cato holding back laughter. Our eyes meet, and the uncharacteristic giggles escape. It takes a while for us to calm down, and by the time the rawness in our throats is gone, the sun is setting.

That night, we finally see the boy from Ten in the sky. It took long enough… How he lasted this long, I'm not sure. Maybe he was faking the full extent of the damage so we would leave him alone, or something? I'm not really sure. Anyway, it's a good thing for us. One less person is standing in the way of our double victory now.

We are alone now. Besides the cameras, of course. So maybe I can use that to our advantage… If we over-emphasize our feelings for each other, maybe the Gamemaker's will feel badly for us. And besides, they love over-the-top things in the Capitol. I mean, my stylist literally looks like she was made of metal and rhinestones! So I decide that, however sickening it will be when we have to watch this in the recap interview, we need to overact as much as possible.

Night is falling quickly, and the temperature is rapidly dropping. I know that my parents will freak out when they see this, but as they said in the Training Center, do what is necessary for survival. They would doubly emphasize that if it is something for the victory of two people, of course. Anyway, we both crawl inside one of the temperature-maintained, fleece-lined sleeping bags, and curl up next to each other. I consider imitating Glimmer and batting my eyelashes, or something, but we all know how that worked out for her. We shouldn't act too out of character. Otherwise, people will assume that everything is an act, and that we have no feelings towards each other whatsoever.

His arms wrap around me as he pulls me closer. I feel the pounding of both of our hearts. Though mine is faster, it still feels as though they are in sync, though that may be purely metaphor clouding my judgment of rhythm. This is all perfect… wonderful…

We gaze into each other's eyes for what feels like hours. I eventually feel my eyes get heavy. I'm only the brink of alertness when slowly, gently, he kisses me to sleep…


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The next day, imagine our surprise when we wake up to Marvel standing overtop of us. I hear Cato curse under his breath, and can't help but agree with him... However more appropriate for the all-ages audience my response is, it's probably the only one of the two of ours I that is actually heard.

"What on earth? Why are you back? I thought for sure you would be eaten by a bear or equally something stupid by now!"

He just shrugs and explains, "I got bored."

"Too bad!" I shriek in reply. "Go back to prancing through the forest like some bunny thing, then!"

I am about to say more, but Cato jumps up and points out onto the horizon. "Camp fires. Let's go."

This will be the first real action in days. Honestly, I'm itching to do something, even if its just to explore the arena a bit more. And besides, we will be able to get rid of Marvel this way, too.

A third is lit. A silent agreement passes between us to each cover one. "Meet back here at dusk," I call over my shoulder. Cato catches my eye for a moment, mouths the words 'stay safe,' and disappears into the tree line. I nod, as if he can still see me, and dash off in the other direction.

The fire I go to is about three kilometers from the starting point. But it must have been burning for longer than we thought. By the time I get there, it is just a smoldering pile of charred pine needles. But still, there is probably someone around here somewhere…

Where, is the question. Under the rock ledge? Up in a tree? Where? I have to figure that out…

Ten minutes into the search, I feel a rumbling in the ground. I feel myself growing nervous. Is this like that one year where the Gamemaker's created an earthquake? That's unlikely; they rarely repeat within quarter centuries, when few people will remember the twists. But weather disasters are different; they can pass them off as being 'natural,' and therefore not be at risk of boring the audience with redundancy. Still, I doubt this is an earthquake. The vibrations seem more regular, more artificial. There is a sound like thunder, though there isn't a cloud in the sky. Turning around, I see a faint trail of smoke coming from the campfire. Without thinking, I run as fast as I possibly can towards it…

It seems that Three did his job a bit too well. Someone or something must have touched a trigger area, because everything is now either a pile of ash, or it is on fire. Being the first one back, I take it upon myself to teach Three what is and isn't acceptable around here.

"You said you knew what you were doing!" I screech at him, pointing at the smoking pile. "How is that knowing what you were trying to do?!" Somewhere in the middle of my tirade, there are heavy footsteps behind me. Three turns to run, but is stopped by Cato's arm reaching out and grabbing him somewhere at the base of his neck, twisting slightly. The cannon sounds seconds later. It's that quick… But still, the rage isn't anywhere near done.

"Calm down!" I insist sharply, locking my hands around Cato's wrists and squeezing. "Just settle down already. Look, whoever did this will be up in the sky tonight. No one could've survived that." I take a deep breath, and allow my logical side to come through. "Besides, we have sponsors and training. We can make up for all of that stuff in no time. And we didn't even need it all."

After a few minutes, I am finally able to get him to see sense. But speaking of seeing… another one of those campfires has been lit, probably fifty yards or so away from one of the originals. This has 'trap' written all over it. But it is probably meant for a weaker tribute, set by someone really naïve who thinks it isn't entirely transparent.

Rolling my eyes, I turn to Marvel, who has been standing by awkwardly for a while now. "You want to stay with us? Go prove yourself. If you go out there, and we see whoever it is tonight, you can stay one more day." I'm not sure why I have sudden authority here. But it seems everyone listens to me anyway, so why waste the opportunity to have a bit of power? Anyway, he is scurrying off within seconds.

"Come on," I say to Cato. "Let's go find a new campsite. This way, if somehow he doesn't fall into radioactive quicksand, we got rid of him for good." And so we grab a few backpacks that we had inside a now partially burned tent and go.

After about twenty minutes of hiking, we reach the same spot that Katniss hid out in before we cornered her in that tree. It's really peaceful here now, with the water bubbling down the tiny repeating water falls, the scent of the pine trees, and the smooth, dark rocks. I honestly can't wait to see what it will be like at night, when the stars are just beginning to reach their full brightness and the moon peaks out…

All of a sudden, Mockingjay's start whistling the same four notes. With the sound of dozens layered over top of each other, it seems very eerie. Then, a few pick up a shriller, longer note. It repeats, bounced back and forth, altered slightly by some. Then silence… there is one cannon, a few more notes, and a few minutes later, another thundering boom. A hovercraft comes down once, waits, and dips down once again before everything goes back to the way it was moments ago.

"Okay, was it just me, or was that really weird?" The words leave me without permission. I can't show any more apprehension while in this arena. But somewhat surprisingly, Cato nods in agreement. So we wait. We wait for night to fall, so we can figure out what, exactly, happened. But we get more than just an explanation…

Not surprisingly, Marvel is the first one we see in the sky. Then Three, and then the girl from Eleven. Its shocking to see her up there, just because I forgot she lasted this long. What was her name again? Rory? Rose? Rue? Yes, Rue, that's it.

"Three more out," Cato whispers. I bite my lip anxiously, knowing what that means. Since there are fewer of us now, we're going to have to figure out what to do really soon. Sensing my nervousness, he holds me close. We stay like this for a second, before I whisper as well.

"I can't lose you."

He kisses my forehead gently, and I look up into his eyes, dark gray in the moonlight. We hold this position for a while, and the voice of Claudius Templesmith blares through the arena. "Attention tributes. Attention. The regulations requiring a single victor has been suspended. From now on, two victors may be crowned if both originate from the same district. This will be the only announcement."

"We can go home," we whisper in a stunned unison before falling into a tight hug. "We're going home."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

That night, snuggled in a thermal sleeping bag and Cato's arms, I dream of Two. Some practical bit in my mind hasn't allowed me to dwell upon it too much, except as a goal. But now, for the first time in weeks, I think of my family. I think that I appreciate them even more now, since there was a possibility I would never see them again. While I'm sure that I will still argue with my siblings quite a bit, or feel like my parents don't quite understand me everyone in a while, I think these Games will bring up closer together. Even my sister's pestering, my parent's super high expectations, and my brother's constant fighting seems inviting. I can't wait to see them again… And when I do, it will be with the realization that for perhaps the first time in sixteen years I have made them proud…

The next day proves to be uneventful. We don't need to go hunting or gathering, as we had more supplies than I thought shoved in these backpacks. If I had to give Glimmer credit for one thing, it would be her organization skills. She's the one who packed everything, 'just in case.' I never actually thought that something Glimmer did would help us…

We spend the next day reminiscing about our old lives back home. We laugh about old inside jokes from the training center that I half-forgotten, making the audience think we're crazy, most likely. Out of context, some of it would seem quite odd…

The middle of the day is the hottest weather either of us has ever been exposed to. So, we do the logical thing and jump into the brook. We have a great time for a while, forgetting the stress of the Games and just goofing around. Little did I know that it was going to get even better…

Somehow, we silently agree with each other to swim under the stone ledge. With the water pouring over it, it gives the illusion that we are literally in the center of a water fall. I'm treading water, but Cato stops me by scooping me up and holding me as one would an infant. We gaze into each other's eyes, and I am lost in a sea of ice blue. Time stands still… No one blinks… The rest of the world doesn't exist… It's only us… Our lips touch, apprehensively at first, but more naturally by the moment. We break apart only for air, and go back, time and time again…


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Attention, tributes. Attention." The words, muffled by the water we continue to splash around in, immediately catch our attention. With our eyes still locked upon one another, we anxiously listen to the rest. I feel as if my heart has stopped. If this is a withdrawal of the previous change... No, it can't be. They wouldn't do that- Would they?

"Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you need something desperately and we plan to be generous hosts."

This is great! We don't need anything, but everyone else must. We are in the strongest position! Plus, this opens up a chance to confront our competitors. How can we not say yes?

"Okay, sunrise," I think out loud. "We have a few hours. Should we head down there now, or wait? We aren't too far away, but maybe we should go now, in case they decide to send it muttations or something when we are heading down. It's happened before."

After a moment of contemplating this, he nods. "Also, it will be like we are waiting for the others. We will have domination early on."

The others... "Which do you think will be there? Other than us, its the Twelves, Five, and Eleven."

For a while, we just swim around, thinking, feeling the cool water soothe our sunburned skin. Which tributes will come... Honestly, it can be any of them. At this point in the Games, if you don't have something you need, most people will do anything.

"I'm guessing Eleven will be there for sure. Five might stick around a bit, but I doubt she will actually fight. And, well, what did you do to Twelve?"

"Don't worry about him." The smirk on Cato's face is almost disturbing. But I suppose that at this point, we have all lost it a bit.

"What about her?" I press. "Think she'll be there? Because if she is, I can give the audience what they've been waiting for..."

"Let's put it this way. Whether she does or doesn't, one of them will be up there in the sky tonight. If not one, both."

A smile crosses my face in spite of myself. "Good. They are two of the strongest, right? The quicker they're up there, the faster we get home. And who knows? Maybe someone is down there now? Let's go!"

For hours, we wait. When a pink tinge finally breaks the sky's monotonous grayness, a table rises out next to the Cornucopia with several backpacks on them. This is it...

"Let's split up," I whisper. "I'm faster. Let me run in, and you stay here and see if you can fight anyone off from here. I'll let you know if I need you." As soon as I finish talking, there is a snapping sound. Tree branches... Someone is out there. The footsteps are light and quick, and the District Five bag is already missing. This must be Fire Girl...

Instincts take over. Running hard, I slam into her. We roll around for a bit, both fighting for the upper hand, but it quickly becomes evident that, given my years of training and several pound advantage, I will be in control here. Quickly, I pin her, prepared to give the audience their display...

"Where's lover boy?" I begin with a false sweetness., though I am holding the tip of a tiny blade to her throat. "Oh, I see. You're gonna help him, right? Well, that's sweet. You know, its to bad you couldn't help your little friend. That little girl. What was her name again? Rue? Well, we killed her and now we're gonna kill you."

She struggles for a bit, moving my hand from its position, and almost manages to get away. With my knee pressed into her stomach, I begin, drawing a few drops of blood at first. But then I am aware that there is someone behind me...


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The next thing I know, I am held in the air by the tribute from Eleven. No, 'held' seems too gentle. I can't move, I can barely breathe... I never like to admit this, but I need help.

Eleven opens his mouth, and shouts at me in a thundering boom. "Did you kill her?

I'm not sure who he is talking about. But I try to wiggle out of his arms. "No! No!"

"I heard you!

"No!" While thrashing around, I catch sight of a large rock gripped tight in Eleven's hand. I do the only thing I can think of. "CATO! CATO!"

"You said her name!"

Did I? I don't remember... So I just keep on screaming for Cato.

It all goes so fast. Eleven raises the rock, and I know that he is going to hit me hard. I make a final attempt to break out of his grasp. But not, it isn't just him; panic is gripping me as well. Though I know his arm is moving fast, it all goes by in slow motion. Right after I've lost all hope, I see a big blur out of the corner of one eye.

Cato slams into Eleven at full speed. The force catapults me through the air, and I hit the wall of the Cornucopia shoulder-first. Bracing for impact, I hear a cannon. It seems as if Twelve was too petrified to leave. It's almost amusing, really, to see why her cannon is going off. It seems as if Thresh landed on her, and is now sitting on her. I guess her airway was cut off, or something.

Once again, everything seems to be going at a slower pace. When I do hit the side, I feel a massive jolt, and a sharp, cramping pain shoots throughout my whole arm. I can't move it correctly, so I use the other to push myself up into a sitting position. Fortunately, my throwing arm is fine...

I look up just in time to see Eleven just barely escape with both the backpacks labeled '11' and '2.' It's okay, though. There really wasn't anything we needed. And with Twelve out of the way, Cato and I will be the only team left...

Cato. He picks me up gently, and carries me inside the Cornucopia. After spreading out a sleeping bag, he lays me down softly.

"I'm okay, really. It's fine." I say this mostly because I can tell that he is freaking out. But he looks my right in the eyes.

"Just let me take a look, Clove." He doesn't wait before unzipping my jacket and easing my arm out of it. I look down as well, and I can see that it is all purple with fresh bruises and swollen multiple times its regular size. We both have had our fair share of sports injuries to know exactly what happened.

Cato takes a deep breath and turns to me. "It's dislocated, Clove. I need to pop it back in place. It'll just keep getting worse if I don't."

"Have you ever actually done that?" I'm getting a bit nervous now. "If not, then no way." With that, I push myself to sit up, but I bump the dislocated shoulder as I do. It hurts so much that I end up falling backwards into his arms."Okay," I whisper. "Go on."

Cato guides me to lay down on my right side. He grabs my left arm as gently as possible, with one hand wrapped around a spot right above my elbow and the other one hovering above the shoulder blade. "Okay, now. Just don't look, okay?"

"Okay," I nod, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to relax. He counts down backwards from three slowly, and I feel everything slip back into place. Other than a bit of pressure, it really isn't all that bad.

"Alright, all done," he says, kissing my cheek gently and holding me close. "I think we should get it looked at when we get back, just in case, but I think you're fine for now."

I nod softly. "Okay. I will. Thank you."

Instead of answering, he just pulls me closer and holds me there. "What's it going to be like when we get back?" The question comes after several minutes of silence.

"I don't know," I respond. I just hope we're this close."

"We will be. I promise you." Once again, he kisses me slowly on my cheek. But this time, it's slightly longer. "Go to sleep," he whispers, stroking my hair back.

I do. And once again, I dream of District Two. But this time, I dream of what our lives would be like together...


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

A/N- I know I have been going off of the movie a lot lately, but there are details here that go back to the book. Minor details, but… After this point, a majority of the timeline will be my own creation, as this is an AU fan fiction.

We wake up to the sound of the rain pitter pattering on the top of the Cornucopia. I stretch slightly and yawn. "Let's stay here for the day."

Cato pulls me close and nods. "By the way, a few minutes after you fell asleep, there was a cannon. I'm not too sure who it was, though… Probably Twelve. Five, maybe. Either way, we'll know for sure tonight."

"Unless we go home tonight, right? I mean, it's possible…" I trail off, noticing how naïve I seem. I suppose a blush creeps onto my face, as well as an embarrassed half-smile, because Cato looks at me softly.

"Maybe. Maybe we can." With that, he breaks into the biggest genuine smile I have seen on him and holds me closer. Our foreheads press against each other's. But somehow, something seems wrong…

"Are you feeling okay?" I ask, pulling away and placing one hand against his cheek. "You seem warm…"

I remember from the Training Center how Cato will pass off anything. I remember how one time, we were in simulated Arctic environments and almost all ended up with hypothermia or frostbite. It took forever for the instructor to get the point across that, no, it is not 'normal' for your fingers to turn blue. So I take a deep breath and prepare for an argument. "Yes, you're definitely not at a normal temperature. Just let me take care of you, okay? Just in case?"

After a few minutes of insistence, I finally am able to convince him of my point. Still, I am worried that I made too big a deal out of nothing. I don't want to add in any possible stress effects, of course. I treat this situation as mildly as I possibly can. "You're probably just too tired. We didn't sleep at all last night, and don't even bother pretending that you did this morning. I heard you next to me, talking to me, all morning. Just try now, okay?"

I'm pleasantly surprised when I don't have to say this twice. Remembering that I should try to keep him as calm and relaxed as possible, I snuggle up next to him. I lace our fingers together, and look up. By the time that I do, I can see that his eyelids are already getting heavy. As I squeeze his hand softly and smile, I become aware of the fact that his breathing is becoming softer, more regular... I pull the sleeping bag up a bit higher, and just watch…

Hours pass. Everything is quiet except for the sounds of our mingled breathing. All is peaceful, normal… I just hope that isn't an illusion. With the twists that the Gamemaker's often pull, anything in the arena, with the exception of the sponsor gifts, could contain anything. One year, the 50th, I think, everything except the supplies from the Cornucopia contained some sort of poison. I'm just hoping this isn't one of those years…

Equally as bad, some years involve spreading naturally-occurring bacteria and such around, as opposed to the lab-grown toxins most commonly used. That seems almost more likely in this case. But still there is only one real symptom, right? And it could be from anything. Stress, exhaustion, the high temperature here… it could even have been my error. Maybe my hands were cold, or something. So the fact that he took this seriously as well… there is something bothering him that he isn't telling me. There has to be… And for Cato to take it seriously, it must be pretty bad.

True, we're probably going to be out of here soon. But still, I have to try to get a sponsor to send in something. What if whatever this is progresses quickly? What if we're here for a while? I have to try something…

Quietly, slowly, I sneak out of the Cornucopia. There, hidden by a clump of torn-up grass, is the District Twelve backpack. Maybe, just maybe, there would be some antibiotic that can get rid of whatever this is. Lover Boy did supposedly have some sort of infection, right?

I am not disappointed. Inside the tiny backpack, there is a vial of clear, chemically-smelling fluid and a sterile hypodermic needle. I take a deep breath, not wanting to mess this up, as I slowly, carefully, and precisely prepare the injection.

Not wanting to wake Cato up, I crawl back into the Cornucopia. Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. I just hope it's the right thing... There is a chance, of course, that I will make everything worse. But there is also a change that I'm making it worse by waiting...

Since he is still asleep, I want to keep it that way. As gently and slowly as possible, I guide one of i his arms out of the sleeping bag. I honestly don't know if I'm doing this right. Hoping I get the fluid into the right area, I take a deep breath as I press the hypodermic in as gently as I possibly can...

Im sure that it probably stings quite a bit, seeing as I am probably shaking from nervousness and going really slowly. "I'm sorry," I whisper as I see his eyes open and focus on my face. "Go back to sleep. I'm almost done."

I pull it out a few seconds later, after ensuring that all the liquid I filled it with is drained out. There is still a bit left in the vial, as well as an extra hypodermic, so I can always hive him another if needed. But we will be out of here soon; a second probably isn't needed. At least, I hope we will be back soon. Because Cato is still getting warmer.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

a/n- I now have a blog about my fanfics. The link is on my profile, if anyone is interested.

_'Okay,'_ I tell myself. _'Don't freak out. That'll make whatever this is worse, most likely. Don't panic. We'll be out of here soon anyway. Then we will find out exactly what's going on, and get it fixed. Everything is going to be fine. Just focus on getting out of here. Everything is going to be okay. You don't even know for certain that anything is wrong.'_

Another cannon goes off in the distance. Unsure of whom it is for, I don't know if my curiosity can wait. I know that I need to get some energy out and distract myself. Without thinking, I start climbing up the underside of the Cornucopia. With the way that it seems to be woven together, there are several spots to grip onto. In fact, after deciding that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to use my dislocated shoulder, so I try it one-handed. Surprisingly, it's actually pretty easy. And, I'll admit, to some extent, it's kind of fun. At least, it's distracting.

Night starts to peek through the open spots in the sides of the Cornucopia. I climb down, and gently shake Cato awake. "Come on," I whisper. "We'll see who's up there soon. "

We crawl over to the opening of the Cornucopia just as the anthem of Panem begins to play. The first face is somewhat surprising. Eleven?! What's he doing up there? Honestly, Cato and I are the only ones who would give him any kind of fight. Then again, with the area that he was in… I suppose snake bites or quicksand are a possibility.

That means that Twelve has to be next… yes, he is. That means it's just the two of us and Five.

"If we don't hear the cannon by tomorrow afternoon, I'm going out." I know that Cato is going to argue with me about this, so I defend my point without waiting. "Look, trust me on this one, okay? Her only skill in training was button pushing. That won't be helpful to her at all. Let me go after her, and we'll be back in no time at all. Please let me. I need to get you back."

"I'm fine, Clove. Really." He touches my face gently, and I pull away.

"No, you're not! Don't lie to me!" Okay, so I'm yelling. But honestly, it seems that he is just steadily getting warmer. He must be at least at 100 degrees now… I take a deep breath and an equally warm tear courses its way down my face. I don't know what to say now… But what I do know is that I am sick of playing an angle for the cameras. For the first time since the Reaping, I allow myself to let some true emotion come out. I curl up into a tight ball at the pointed end of the Cornucopia, where I am the only one small enough to fit. I try to calm down here, but it's no use. I just can't get the situation out of my mind…

Maybe I am over-reacting. But yet, I don't think I am. So, without saying anything, I grab my backpack and leave. Time to find Five…


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

As expected, I hear footsteps behind me. "Go back to the Cornucopia," I insist, not looking back. "Go back. I'll be there soon."

There is no sound. No retreating footsteps, no verbal agreement, not even an argument. "Go back," I repeat. Then the footsteps start again. They're fast, but too light to be from Cato. That means they must be from Five… And I just told her where my weakened ally is.

As quickly as possible, I chase her. Seeing as she is several yards ahead of me, I have to make up ground fast. I lunge, and tackle her to the ground. I remember from the statistic board in training that we are both relatively the same size, so neither of us has much of a physical advantage by that standard. I probably have only about ten pounds on her. But still, she is more flexible. Doesn't that give her the advantage? She's wiggling out from underneath me.

I don't need my training here. Instead, I allow pure instinct to take over. But it seems I am not alone. We start clawing at each other's faces, and I internally yell at myself since I evidently kept absent-mindedly biting mine. I feel her open up a spot on my face, and I drop down quickly and ram my head into her abdomen. It's the only thing I could think of, and it worked. She's back on the ground, with me over top of her.

_'Just one more time,'_ I tell myself. _'Just one more time, then you're home. You can do this… You don't have a choice…' _

I punch her in the face, breaking her nose. I start kicking her in the same spot, going back to a lecture on training. The instructors said that this would be fast and easy, if we had the opportunity. Physically, it is easy. Emotionally, not so much. 'You're doing this to save Cato,' I remind myself. It doesn't excuse my actions, I know, but it still helps a bit. After about thirty seconds, I can feel her nose bone move up into her brain. The cannon comes a second later.

I exhale slowly and move away so that the hovercraft can come in for her. After it dips down and leaves, the anthem of Panem plays again. Claudius Templesmith's voice blares over the arena. The victory announcement. We did it… we really did it…

I run back to the Cornucopia, and hug Cato gently. "We did it. The hovercraft will be here soon. We're going home." _'Now we can find out what's wrong,'_ I mentally add.

We are brought into an area that seems like a flying version of the ground-level floor of the training center. Several people are here. They seem a bit older than us, and are all wearing the same uniform. They must be Gamemaker interns.

We land a few minutes later, on the roof of the training center. Since the interns have to stay here, for some instructions on the recaps they say, but we are told that we can go back to floor two, since they think we are both physically fine.

"No," I say as soon as we step onto the elevator. "We aren't going back. Not yet." I pull him into the elevator and push the button for the ground floor. "I'm taking you to their medical center, and there isn't any point in arguing with me."

I have to say, I'm somewhat surprised when Cato doesn't. But it seems like that's only because he knows that he's getting worse... I can tell. I can see it...


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

After I explain the situation, we are brought in together to wait for a further examination. I get slightly nervous that anything more is needed. They already took vital signs and several blood samples, so what else is really needed? Does this mean that something really is wrong? Is it something bad? Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and try to think logically. This is probably one of those simple Gamemaker-controlled viruses that can be taken care of completely and easily. Right? But if that were the case, wouldn't we be out of here by now? Still, I know that I need to appear calm and reassured; this will all be less stressful for Cato that way. I need to try to keep him calm…

"Everything is going to be fine," I whisper gently. "Absolutely fine. I promise…" Maybe it's me who is more anxious…

We wait in silence for a while, and I strain to hear what's going on outside. It seems like several people are analyzing a recap of the Games, as if trying to find a specific spot where whatever this is started. After a while, I can tell by the muffled splashes that they are watching us n the water. It's slowed down, but they're still repeating it over and over again. Then it all makes sense; there must have been something in the water. And, depending on what it is, it does make sense that Cato would get it and I wouldn't, since I still pinch my nose closed when I swim… It all makes sense now…

They always told us in training how dangerous unpurified water is. The instructors would go on and on about making sure to use iodine, purification tablets, or boiling methods if we didn't get it from a sponsor or the Cornucopia, and to avoid getting any that we didn't clean into our mouths, noses, or any open cuts. This water probably was infected with some sort of freaky algae or amoeba, or something. Whether it was naturally-occurring, Gamemaker produced, or what, I can't really be certain. I just know that it will likely do one of two things if there isn't any available cure. It will either go away on its own, which is what I'm hoping for, of course, or… No. I can't even allow that thought to form in my mind.

"Yeah, everything's going to be just fine…" I repeat slowly, trying to hide the fact that my voice is cracking slightly with held-back tears. "Just fine…" We look each other in the eyes for a moment, and slowly move in towards each other. I feel his fingers run through my hair for a second, as delicately as one would stroke the wings of a fragile butterfly. I close my eyes for a second, smiling slightly, before the warmth on one cheek alerts me to the fact that Cato has leaned in and kissed me softly. I turn a bit so our lips brush against each other's, and though it feels fantastic, it also makes all the panic a bit more immediate. Pressed against each other like this, the heat of Cato's fever feels magnified, burning hotter… They need to figure this out. Fast. They have to…

Still, we stay like this. Even after breaking apart, we remain pressed cheek-to-cheek, wrapped in each other's arms. I look up and out the small window on the door and sigh. Now, they're going between multiple Game fragments, charts, graphs, and notes, and arguing about what is happening. Well, maybe if they came in here they would be able to figure that out!

After a few minutes, I try once again to get him to relax. With our arms still wrapped around each other, I gently lay him down onto the examination table nod smile reassuringly. Though I am glad that the smile is returned, I can tell how forced it is. "How do you feel? And tell the complete truth. Please..." I know that the second bit is necessary, and that without it, he would just sugar-coat everything. "Come on," I coax as I stroke back his hair. "Tell me..."

"Kinda dizzy," he gets out in a weak whisper.

I can tell that that isn't all. But honestly, I would feel badly about pushing any farther... I just hate seeing Cato so fragile...

"Okay. It's all going to be over soon. Then everything will be back to the way it was, okay? Just hang in there..." Once again, our eyes lock onto each other's, and neither of us break the gaze...

Not until the door is pushed open, surprisingly by our mentors. Both of their expressions are dark, grim... They know what's going on. And I can tell that it's something really bad.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N- I can't believe my little baby story is 30 already! *sniffle sniff* Thanks to everyone who has stuck with it this long. I really appreciate it. Anyway, I want to apologize for chapter 29, since it was most likely gibberish. That's what happens when I have too much sugar and stay awake until 2:30...

So, how is everyone enjoying the story? And what about that little twist I added? Lots of drama with that... Any guesses on what is wrong with Cato? Answers are to come! :-)

Oh, in a recent chapter, I accidently said that Clove is sixteen, when she is really seventeen in the story. I can't remember the chapter I said that, though, so if you can remember, I'd appreciate it if you told me. Thanks! :-)

Chapter 30

I have seen several mentor/tribute reunions, and I can tell that this isn't a normal situation. Most of the time, our mentor's aren't even allowed to see us until the day of the interview. I guess that whatever is going on is so bad that this is a special circumstance…

During the training, they seemed to both guide us through everything. But not here, not now… They ask to talk to us both separately…? I can't help but hesitate…

Still, the next thing I know I am somehow out in the hallway. I am internally freaking out about what's going on. Perhaps sensing this, Marilla squeezes my hand before explaining.

"Clove," she starts slowly. "How much do you know about microscopic water inhabitants? Bacteria, amoeba and the like?"

I shake my head." Pretty much nothing. Why? Is- is that's what happening? Some freaky form of a water virus?" As soon as I say it, I know that I'm right.

Marilla lets out a long exhale before continuing. "This one is called N. fowleri. The Gamemaker's added it to the brook."

"Details? I honestly don't have any idea what you're talking about… Is there a simplified name for it that makes more sense?"

By the hesitation in her eyes, I can tell that there is. "Tell me. I'm going to find out sooner or later, after all…"

Dropping her gaze, Marilla whispers so softly that I can barely hear. "Brain-eating amoeba. It's commonly called the brain-eating amoeba…"

My eyes widen and tears begin to form immediately, albeit abruptly. I don't speak, not even when spoken to. Eventually, something inside of me snaps; the motivation of getting us both back to District Two was what seemed to keep me sane through the Games. I can't believe that we got through the Arena so easily, but this could be the part that pulls us away from each other… I can't form a logical thought as I run. I don't know where I'm going, but that I need to do something, to get away from this all…

Eventually, I end up in the elevator that runs through the building. Punching buttons at random while screaming and crying, I eventually jam in between the sixth and seventh floors. That's fine with me…

After a while, probably an hour or so, I assume that someone discovered the jam I made and fixed it, because I'm back on the ground floor. No one else is around, and I don't hear anyone… But I know that I shouldn't have run off like that…

Wiping my eyes on the back of one hand, I take a deep breath and make my way through the hallway. When I listen closely, I can hear faint sounds coming from underneath only one door. Slowly, quietly, I push it open.

Once I am inside, I can say that it absolutely terrifies me to see Cato so fragile, so weak... I silently walk over to where he is laying, and squeeze one hand in both of my smaller ones. "Everything is going to be fine." Honestly, it almost feels as if I'm lying by saying this. But still, I continue on with it. "Absolutely fine..."

And so it seems. Over the next few days, the periodic blood samples seem to be showing improvement. The strong antibiotics they have created in the Capitol labs must be working... But then why does everything end up falling downhill?


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Everything seems to be going really well. By the fourth day or so, I am under the impression that the amoeba is almost entirely gone. So I'm in for a horrible surprise on the late afternoon of the fifth…

The day started off with the Capitol citizens beginning to get bored. This is to be expected, I suppose. Normally, the victory interviews would start about three days after the Games ended, but seeing as Cato really isn't in the best shape for that yet, they had to postpone ours. Of course, this rather disappointed them; after all, ours will be the first double-victor interview in history. To these shallow, bratty, spoiled loons, the idea of postponing that just because someone is currently having their brain eaten just isn't acceptable… So that is why I am being filmed now, in a mini one-on-one interview with Caesar Flickerman. The idea is to get at least half an hour of footage, and break it up into two or three minute segments to broadcast periodically and until the main interviews are filmed.

When they said 'half-hour,' I was expecting to literally be in and out of there in thirty minutes. But no. Apparently, they want to create the illusion that they filmed each clip live, and will adjust this based off of the number of days that the main interview is delayed, editing the pieces together accordingly. They are guessing that we will lose another week, or so, so I have to give the exact same interview seven times in different outfits. Of course, my stylist is brilliant. I forgot her name, since I haven't seen her since interview night, but I honestly regret it. She and her design partner, whom I vaguely remember for being so metallic, are so down-to-earth and funny. Ianthe, who was originally meant to be mainly Cato's stylist, helps Angelia out a lot, making everything go by smoother and faster. For the first taping, they decide to go for a more casual, fun look. As Ianthe helps me slip on a black and pink striped dress, Angelia presses on one last hot-pink fake nail.

"You're going to do great, Clove," Ianthe beams at me while she plugs in a curling iron. "Just focus, okay? I mean, your last interview was great, really. But this time, try not to stare at Caesar's hair, okay?"

Angelia nods in agreement as she checks that the nail glue is completely hardened. "Don't forget to smile," She reminds me as a warm lock of my now-twisted hair falls in my face. I know that they're just trying to give me advice, but I'm blocking it all out. For the last few days, I haven't left Cato's side for more than a few minutes at a time. Being away for several hours, well.. Who can really blame me for being a bit lost in thought?

The first interview begins a only moments after Ianthe finishes with my hair. Really, it's pretty boring and easy for me. They wanted it as unscripted and natural as possible, so it's more of a filmed conversation between Caesar and I. Mostly, I let him babble as I occasionally nod, laugh, or squeeze in a one-word reply Before he starts rambling on again. It's too easy. The fact that I have to do this six more times is so frustrating...

It takes from early that morning to around five in the evening to finish up. It's almost six before I get back to the training studio. Though the Capitol is a fairly small, the studio was on the other side of it, and traffic was pretty heavy. So as soon as I get to the training center, I can't stop myself from racing into Cato's room.

I'm not surprised when I see that he is fast asleep. Fighting off that amoeba must be exhausting, after all. Combine that with all of the medications they have him on, and I'm surprised that he isn't sleeping more. What does come off as odd, though, is the lack of response I get when I whisper his name. Maybe that's normal... I'm really not sure though, and quite frankly, it scares me. Stepping forward, I touch his face and wait for some sort of reaction. Nothing...

I am about to run out into the hallway, find someone, and demand answers when Marilla comes in. "Clove, we need to talk..."

My stomach drops at these words; I know that whatever she is about to say isn't good at all. "What is it?" I whisper, paranoid.

"The amoeba was thought to be clearing up, but it didn't. In actuality, it just got worse." She pauses for a moment, and looks me in the eyes. "Cato slipped into a coma this afternoon. And they aren't sure how much longer he has..."

The world is spinning, out of control, crazy. No, this can't be happening. This can't be real, it just isn't possible! No, no, no... This is all some sort of horrible joke, or something. Or I'm dreaming. Yes, that's it. This is just a dream..? But then why scan I feel it when I pinch myself? Is this really happening, then?

It must be...

Running back in, I squeeze both of Cato's hands as hard as I possible can; still no reaction. "Come on," I coax as calmly as I can. "Wake up. You can do it, just wake up." I repeat myself through the night.

As night falls, no one asks me to leave. It isn't that they understand me: It's that they pity me. Though that would usually aggravate me endlessly, I don't care. The entire night, I stay here, holding him tightly, not wanting to let go; based on what Marilla said, this could be our last night together...

This continues for the next three days. After all, even outside of the arena or training center, my Cato is a fighter. But early on in the third morning, I feel a slight change. The regular pounding of his heart against me has slowed, almost to a complete stop. A scream leaves me, as half a dozen people come rushing in.

I am pulled out of the room, kicking, screaming, and crying. I need to stay with him. And he needs to stay with me...


	32. Chapter 32 edited

A/N- I'm sorry, but I accidently deleted the last two chapters. I am going to rewrite them, and post them as soon as possible. Again, I am very sorry about this.

Chapter 32

Though I know I'm probably not supposed to be doing this, I press against the door as soon as I calm down slightly. I just can't help it; I need to know what's going on. Since I doubt that I will be allowed back in anytime soon, this is the next best thing. At least, everything can be heard… For a moment, I am so grateful that a majority of the Capitol citizens are so loud…

Maybe it's really only minutes, but it feels at least an hour before someone says I can go back in. Though this is what I wanted from the second they pulled me out, I hesitate. What if giving me time alone with Cato is really just their way of making me think everything is okay before giving me more bad news? No, it can't be… Can it? But if it isn't, then what took so long?

Taking a deep breath, I force myself to push all apprehension aside. I exhale as I twist the doorknob…Stepping inside slowly, I look around for a minute. Most likely accidentally, though perhaps intending for me to see, they have left several new charts and notes around. Whether they are meant for me or not, I don't care. Silently, I leaf through the pages. Most of them are in super precise terms that I don't understand, but a few that I do keep popping up; mostly, the technical name for that amoeba, N. fowleri, along with several possible connected complications. All of said complications seem awful. I can't keep reading them, I just can't… So I put down the notes, hands shaking, and go back to my previous encouragement, though I put even more desperation into my words than I have been for the next three days.

"Listen to me," I demand. "You're going to be fine. You're going to wake up soon, alright? Just try. Please try…" For a second, I just stare down intensely at his sleeping form. The next words catch in my throat, and I have to force them out. "It's going to be okay… Everything is going to be okay…" I feel like this is a lie, perhaps the biggest one I can tell. But still, I have to say it. Perhaps if I convince him enough, something like a placebo effect will take place? It's possible, right? I mean, it must be…

"Yes, everything will be fine." I try to get this out as sincerely and confidently as possible. And yet, my voice falters. Unwelcome tears begin to pool in my eyes slightly, and I make a failed attempt to blink them away. As gently and quietly as possible, I lean down and kiss his cheek, softly and slowly. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but it almost feels like one of his hands moves slightly underneath mine… No, I must be imagining. But still… should I let someone know? Is it important? They need to know every little change, right? But if I was only imagining it… No, I don't need to tell anyone. Not until I'm sure.

I don't have much more time to ponder over this. One of the Capitol doctor's, who I think focuses specifically on neurology, enters moments after I think I feel the movement. I have to say, for an out there Capitol look, I kind of like her alterations. Though I personally wouldn't want to have short, kind of spiky blue hair or star-shaped gem stones on my face, everything seems connected, somehow.

Though extremely chatty, she doesn't come across as a normal Capitol citizen. Most of what she is saying is a description of what's going on, first in technical terms and then simplified. Then, she starts explaining the treatment she's about to try.

"What I'm going to do is add an antibiotic directly to the cerebrospinal fluid, or CSF. That's the liquid surrounding the brain and spinal column. This antibiotic is shown to eliminate the amoeba in 99 percent of the lab tests and simulations, though there is sometimes minimal tissue damage. So, what we are going to do is focus on getting rid of the amoeba, then repairing and damaged areas. After all, tissue can be fixed if its damaged, but not if it's entirely dissolved. Are you following me so far? Any questions?"

I nod. "Yes to both. The question is, how to you get the antibiotic into that fluid?"

"It's actually quite simple, Clove," she starts. "What we do is put an IV line between two vertebrae and the medication gets into the surrounding CSF. Does that make sense?"

Nodding, I suddenly become nervous. "It isn't going to hurt him, is it?" I know that this probably seems ridiculous; it's unlikely that Cato can feel anything at all. But still...

"No, probably not. Anything is possible when it comes to medicine, really, but most likely the answer is no. If you want, though, I can administer something to numb the area, just in case."

"Yes," I say, relieved that this is an option. "I think that's a good idea."

Nodding in agreement with me, she moves over to one of the cabinets on the wall and takes out several things. Once she moves, I can see that the name on her name tag is Alexandria.

A few minutes later, the most amazing thing happens. As Alexandria begins to insert the needle into Cato's back, I almost instinctively squeeze his hand. This time, I'm sure that the light squeeze on mine is real. Curious, I squeeze again. Once more, there is another one in response... My eyes widen and I look up at Alexandria to see what she has to say...

She is already done with the IV, and notices my reaction. Glancing at one of the monitors, she smiles and looks at me. "Brain waves are getting stronger. He should be waking up within the next few hours."

I am left alone with him, waiting. A massive grin breaks my face the second that I see those big blue eyes of his open...


	33. Epilogue

Epilogue

A/N- This one will be shorter than most chapters. Since it is both short and the conclusion (the sequel is up, and listed first on my profile), I am labeling it as an epilogue.

The second our eyes connect, my heart skips a beat. I never allowed myself to believe that I would once more stare into his eyes icy depths. Now I find myself doing just that. This is so wonderful that it almost feels unreal. I know that there are other people coming in, but I don't care. The next thing I am aware of, we are tangled up in each others arms, hugging and holding tight, as I let out a stream of combined tears and laughter. Until now, I didn't know people really cried tears of joy; I thought that was something that only happened in books. Proven wrong on two things today... And I couldn't be happier about that.

Soon, we are left alone. I see as Cato shares a glance with our mentors. It seems secretive, somehow. Hopefully, I will find out what is for soon.

And I do. A few hours into our conversation, I get my third surprise of the day. And it is easily one of the happiest moments in my life.

"I need to ask you something," he begins. "I was going to ask before you went for the interview. That's how they all know. And, well-" He breaks off, evidently nervous. I can tell that I am not just imagining that by the way that his amplified heartbeat quickens.

"It's okay. Just ask. You can ask me anything. Don't worry." At my words, he nods and slips unsteadily out of bed, and kneels down in front of me.

My first reaction is to tell him to go back in, that he still needs to rest. But what he is doing hits me at the exact moment I hear the question.

"Clove, will you marry me?"


End file.
